Road to Redemption
by 3DPhantom
Summary: Bill Cipher, trapped in a human body, is forced to seek redemption and accept punishment for his crimes. The Pines family is tasked with helping him along. No one is pleased: Is Bill even capable of change? (Slight AU, set nine months post series finale, summer of 2014. Rated T for now. No slash intended. Axolotl Redemption Theory. Main Characters: Bill, Dipper, Mabel, Ford, Stan.)
1. Prologue: Cry Out

**A/N: Some notes:**

 **1. This story is non-romantic and contains no intended slash or pairing.**

 **2. ****I'm running on the premise that GF took place in the year 2013 and Dipper and Mabel were born in 1999.**

 **3. Spoilers plausible for, well, just about ANYTHING.**

 **4. I'm working on the Axolotl redemption theory (to some degree). If you don't know what that is, I elaborate in the story.**

 **5. ****Rated T (for now) for violence, action, sort-of child abuse (it depends on your point of view), and minor occasional cussing.**

 **6. I do not own Gravity Falls. Alex Hirsch, if you're reading this, **_**I love you.**_ ***Struggles To Keep A Dead Serious Face On But Erupts Into Laughter Anyway***

 _Sixty degrees that come in threes._

 _Watches from within birch trees._

 _Saw his own dimension burn._

 _Misses home and can't return._

 _Says he's happy. He's a liar._

 _Blame the arson for the fire._

 _If he wants to shirk the blame,_

 _He'll have to invoke my name._

 _One way to absolve his crime._

 _A different form, a different time._

 _~The Axolotl in "Dipper and Mabel and the Curse of the Time Pirates' Treasure!"_

 **Prologue: Cry Out**

 _Blue fire enveloped the Dreamscape of Stanley Pines, brilliant in all of its horrid. Bill Cipher cried out, twisting and writhing into any form, shape, or color he could imagine, trying to escape fruitlessly._

'This isn't what I wanted!' _He thought to himself._ 'I can't die here! Anything, I'll do anything!'

 _In his last hopes, he sought the only chance left before him. He cried out:_

" _Axolotl! My time has come to burn! I invoke the ancient power that I may return!" To the ears of Stan Pines it was only backwards gibberish, but Bill knew better, and the Axolotl of course heard. The Axolotl had known that this day would come; the day when Bill Cipher's grief and nature drove him to heinous actions, and someone would come along to stop him, to kill him._

 _The Axolotl though, as powerful, omnipotent and sympathetic as it is, promised Bill that when his crimes came crashing down on him, an event Bill at the time had imagined would never happen, Bill would be given a second chance. The catch: Bill's path to redemption would begin as soon as he spoke The Axolotl's name, he would be given a new form, in a new time, in a place where The Axolotl believed he would most receive the help he needed, and punishment he deserved._

 _And as such, it was nine months after the events of Weirdmageddon, barely looking on a week into the summer of 2014, that Bill Cipher opened his eyes…._


	2. Chapter 1: Enter Summer of 2014

**Chapter 1: Enter Summer of 2014**

Dipper and Mabel could hardly suppress their excitement. It had been almost a year, precisely nine months, since they'd last been to Gravity Falls. To return now was a reminder that they only had to say goodbye to their life of mystery and wonder for nine months out of the year, pleased with the fact that soon they'd be seeing both of their Great Uncles again, along with hopefully all of the other friends they'd left behind nine months ago.

"I bet they won't even recognize us!" Mabel practically screamed, giggling as she stared intently out of the bus window. Dipper rolled his eyes.

"In that pink cat sweater? They'll definitely recognize you Mabel. Besides, we're only like three inches taller than the last time we were here. A year hasn't changed us _that_ much."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Mabel said, squeezing Waddles closer to her chest. The pig gave out an affectionate "oink". Their parents _hadn't_ been happy to see her bring home a pig of all things, but upon seeing how much she loved the pink sack of flesh, they couldn't make Mabel get rid of it; it would clearly break her heart. Dipper knew exactly how that felt.

"Honestly, besides maybe a bit of maturity and more ease around strangers, I don't think eighth grade has even changed me that much. Yeah we have electives now, but High School Will have way more."

"Says you!" Mabel laughed. "You were always too mature, studying instead of hanging out with friends. Now there are just more people like you who focus on grades. I personally think it's been great having, like, ten times as many people around to make friends with every day!" Dipper smiled. If there was one thing eighth grade had provided Mabel, it was an overabundance of friends. She didn't always do her work, but teachers still loved her, and she was now in more clubs than you could count, most of them small, like knitting-club, a couple of them larger like Junior Student Council, the Middle-School branch of the High School Stu. Co. At their middle school, almost all of the clubs only allowed eighth graders in. Dipper himself had tried to found a Paranormal Investigations Club, quite unsuccessfully, and had settled instead for UIL Math and Science. He would have done History too, but most people didn't appreciate his views on ghosts and, more precisely, his insistence that the triangle atop the pyramid on the back of a dollar bill was, in fact, a depiction of Bill Cipher, the Demon of Dreams. People both laughed and looked terrified for weeks after he'd said that…. Maybe some part of them could sense he was right?

Dipper opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by Mabel's shrill shriek. Yeah, teen-hood had brought on an overabundant amount of those, too. Dipper turned to see what she was yelling about and couldn't help but grin happily too as a sign passed by outside the bus, boldly reading "Welcome to Gravity Falls! Nothing to see here folks." He and Mabel grinned at each other before abruptly standing as the bus came to a stop near the Mystery Shack.

The twins lugged all of their necessary possessions behind them, Dipper carrying a couple of his own bags and one of Mabel's while Mabel struggled with her own three duffle bags. Upon seeing the Shack, giant grins broke out on both of their faces, impossible to surprise even if they'd wanted to. They came up to the front and stopped abruptly on the front doorstep. Mabel considered just bursting in the door, but Dipper was already knocking on the wooden frame.

No sooner than he'd knocked was there a scuffling noise from inside and moments later, the door was flung wide open.

"Kids!" Their Grunkle Stan greeted them with open arms. They happily accepted the brief but tight embrace before being let inside, Ford clamping a hand on Dipper's shoulder and patting Mabel's head.

"It's great to see you kids again! Wait 'till Stan and I tell you what we've been up to these last months, traveling the world, tracking down abnormal phenomena!"

"That's great Grunkle Ford!" Mabel said. "And Dipper and I can tell you about eighth grade!"

"It was considerably boring," Dipper deadpanned. "I'm so glad to be back here!"

Grunkle Stan laughed. "Well, you two go put your things upstairs, Soos should be back by the time you come down." The twins nodded and rushed upstairs to begin unpacking their things. Not twenty minutes later they came scurrying back down, Mabel's stuffed animals littered across her bed and Dipper's books on the desk, and true to his word, Stan was standing next to Soos in the kitchen, Ford tinkering with something at the kitchen table, when the kids came in.

Soos held in his hand a brown box, pointing at it enthusiastically. "Dudes, look!" He opened it up and set a cake on the kitchen table by Ford that read in rainbow colors "Welcome Back!" Mabel's eyes widened and sparkled, but her and Dipper both still gave Soos a tight hug before setting to grabbing plates while Stan cut the sweet spongy bread that sat on their kitchen table.

"So, uh, where's Wendy at?" Dipper tried to ask casually as he scooped up another forkful of cake.

"She went out of town for the first couple of weeks of summer to see her Aunt, but she'll be back in a few days," Stan said. "Hoping to get your cap back?" Dipper blushed a little.

"I guess," he said, stroking the soft brown cloth of his current hat affectionately. Truth be told, he kind of adored the hat Wendy had given him, mostly because he still thought of it as Wendy's hat, and her promise that they'd see each other again to switch back this summer.

Mabel interrupted the conversation by scooping a few handfuls of sprinkles that appeared to have come from nowhere in particular onto her cake. She bit into another forkful, this time a "crunch" sound accompanying her every chew.

"Man, you two haven't changed a bit!" Soos said with a smile.

 _ **~Meanwhile Deep In The Forest~**_

Bill Cipher moaned, slowly sitting up. A wind blew through the shadowed forest and he instantly shivered, the tendrils of cold weather lasting even into the beginning of summer in the far-north state of Oregon.

He blinked a few times groggily, letting his two fresh eyes adjust to the dark environment around him. A quick glance to the right confirmed his location, the statue that was his old body resting halfway sunken into the ground, moss growing in random spots upon it. Bill reached out and touched it, mostly wishing that he would be magically transferred back into his original form, but all he met was a smooth cold surface brushing his fingertips.

He sighed. "He said time and form, I guess Axolotl never specified that he could chose the place," he said aloud to himself. He winced at his own voice; it was as high in pitch as ever, but now it cracked a little, and his throat was sore. For the first time he looked down at himself.

His body was young, maybe about eight years old by appearance, he couldn't tell exactly. Bill had never cared too much for how time effected the oh-so-short lives of humans…. His hair fell in his face as he looked down, blond, straight, shaggy strands that glowed a youthful golden appeared like silk before his eyes. He reached up a slender pale hand to brush the hair away, observing his thin small form. He wore soft black pants, a simple yellow button-down long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of black socks but no shoes. All things considered, The Axolotl had chosen well. Bill didn't appreciate the age of the body, but didn't doubt that it was because young minds were more susceptible to change and outside influence that this body had been created for him at this particular age. Bill imagined that the body had, in fact, been formed for him and was entirely his own; taking another person's body, even a corpse, didn't seem like something the ever-benevolent Axolotl would do. Besides that, where he was a creature of destruction, a demon, The Axolotl was naturally a god of creation and healing. Bill imagined that he may be The Axolotl's biggest reform project yet to date.

Bill shivered again as another gust of wind whipped through the trees, making them whisper. He missed being able to hear the song that they sang, the secrets the trees would murmur. With luck, he'd either come out of this exactly the same as he's been before Weirdmageddon, powers in tact, or he would in fact find redemption and regain his powers in that way. Either way, staying out in the woods of Gravity Falls wasn't an option, so he stood on shaky legs, glancing around him.

Likely, if he was still in Gravity Falls, he was supposed to seek out the Pines family. Surely no one on Earth was more fit to decide his punishment and, if it was destined, help him "change his ways". If Bill had his every hope come true, he would find a way to unlock the powers within him without having to be either punished or redeemed. This was, at this point, a very unlikely outcome. In fact, the Pines were probably going to start dishing out the punishment as soon as he knocked on their door.

Part of him, deep inside, secretly appreciated the whole situation he was currently in. He hadn't, after all, ever really _wanted_ to be a demon….


	3. Chapter 2: Hello

**Chapter 2: Hello….**

 **A/N: Short note:** **Bill's body is equivalent to that of an eight year old's in this, though of course he's much older himself and the body is technically not even a day old. That's it, on to the story now!**

Bill padded through the forest in the direction he knew the Mystery Shack would be in. He may no longer be omnipotent (well, he liked to claim he was omnipotent but clearly he simply couldn't know _everything,_ otherwise he wouldn't be in this situation), but he still had his memories, and he knew _everything_ there was to know about Gravity Falls. Well, everything as of last summer, and unless the Mystery Shack had been uprooted and moved to the other side of town, he knew where to go.

Bill contemplated what he would do once he got to the Shack. He no longer had his strings to pull at, all the little things he used to be able to influence were mostly gone or simply no longer under his control. It wasn't really an option to just hang around town; if anyone recognized him, the people of the town would be none-too-forgiving for what had happened last summer. At least at the Mystery Shack he knew that Pine Tree and Shooting Star would….. Well, not protect him per-say, but the children were rather good-natured, and surely they wouldn't let anything happen to him that he didn't deserve, right? Especially Shooting Star; she was such a benevolent creature by nature, he figured, though she was also rather willing to use violence when necessary to protect her family and friends. In this current state he was no threat whatsoever, and incapable of protecting himself, so surely she would at least recognize that and be merciful enough not to….

Bill stopped in his tracks, staring from the edge of the clearing at the ill-kept wooden structure. What had he just been thinking about? Merciful enough not to what? To _kill_ him? To lock him in the basement, experiment on him, and never let him see the light of day again? He hadn't the slightest idea, and that scared him more than just about anything else. At the very least, maybe he could use his current body to his advantage; overplay his weak state and young appearance, if he was completely submissive maybe they'd see him as less of a threat…. Which, to be fair, he really _wasn't_ a threat at the moment _at all_. Even if he'd wanted to, which perhaps some part of him did, he wouldn't be able to hurt a single hair on any of their heads. If he even tried he'd likely be killed on the spot.

Bill considered feigning power, pretending that he could use his magic at any time, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Even with magic the Pines had always done everything in their power to stop him, and if he couldn't actually use magic to try to protect himself, they'd discover the truth eventually, likely sooner rather than later, and then he'd be in even worse trouble. He was already in over his head…. Which he hated admitting to with a fiery passion.

With a deep frustrated sigh, arms crossed tightly across his chest in an attempt at warmth, Bill began to make his way to the front door of the Shack, the morning sun just barely rising over the horizon, symbolizing a new day.

 _ **~In the Mystery Shack~**_

Mabel and Dipper awoke to soft welcoming light, the warm and blurred hazes of morning just before the sun rises. Mabel was up instantly, energy practically pouring from every pore in her body.

"Dipper, Dipper, Dipper, wake up!" She called at her bleary-eyed twin brother.

"'M up, 'm up!" Dipper slurred, rubbing his eyes and also perking up rather quickly at the realization that they were finally back in Gravity Falls. "Today I can go see what's changed since we left!" He said rather excitedly as he got out of bed. "I wanna see if the Gnomes still live in the same place, or if they moved. Maybe I can ask them if they hibernate, or have different grounds for the seasons! I've never known since we're only here in the summer time…."

Mabel laughed. "Alright Dipper, we'll see if we can go on a little Mystery-Twin Adventure after breakfast! Later I'm gonna go see if Candy and Grenda are in town! But first…." She and Dipper ran downstairs as Mabel raced to the kitchen, Dipper following closely behind her. "STANCAKES!" She bellowed and, since she knew her Grunkle Stan well, was not let down when she entered the kitchen, the smell of fresh flapjacks meeting them and Stan smiling from in front of the stove.

They sat down to eat, Ford joining them shortly after, sometimes making small talk, mostly listening to Ford and Stan enthusiastically retell stories of their world-wide adventures. Mabel was halfway done with her second serving of Stancakes (like pancakes but with extra Stan-love in them, she would often say) when she heard a small "tap, tap, tap," on the front door.

"I'LL GET IT! Maybe it's Candy and Grenda!" Mabel exclaimed happily as she raced to the front door, glitter falling off of her newest purple bedazzled sweater the whole way to the door.

She threw it open with a smile on her face. The sight before her had her instantly gushing.

"Oh, hey there! Awww, you're so cute!" She squealed a little, taking in the sight of a young boy of about seven or eight with golden strands of hair, slightly rosy pale chubby cheeks, a small thin frame, and bright big sparkling golden eyes.

Bill almost groaned, but refrained. Not only was he pleasantly aware of the fact that she meant "cute" in no way romantically, but more like she would comment if she saw a puppy, but he also would take any quick attachments he could get at the moment. Who knew? "Cute" may end up being one of the deciding factors of what they did with him in a few minutes' time.

Bill opened his mouth as if to speak, but Mabel, with her overzealous nature, suddenly steamrolled over whatever he had been about to say.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry, you look cold! It's too early in the summer for you to be out without a jacket this early in the morning!" She grabbed him by the arm and began pulling him inside. "And why aren't you wearing shoes? Where are your parents? You're not here alone are you, because you're way too young to be out here alone!" Bill frantically pulled back.

"Wait, wait, wait! I don't think you want to just drag me inside-"

"Nonsense! Like I said, it's too cold out!" Did she not notice that he sounded like Bill? Did she just pass it off as him being young? Bill supposed that the last thing any of them could expect would be for him, the demon they thought they'd killed nine months ago, to come back now and in the form of a young boy.

Bill was helpless to stop the force of Mabel as she pulled him into the house, though he was instantly grateful for the warmth of the cozy and strange living space. Despite the warmth quickly seeping into him, he tensed up, uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was officially and irreversibly in enemy territory, or what could very well be either enemy or future caretaker territory, and whatever was going to come next, he could no longer prevent it or defend himself from it.

Mabel pulled the still slightly struggling and adorable young boy into the kitchen, everyone looking up instantly at the unfamiliar addition to the room.

"Who's the kid?" Stan spoke first, Dipper cocking an eyebrow at the admittedly cute child Mabel was pulling behind her.

"Oh jeez, Mabel, what did you do?" Dipper questioned, taking in the socked feet and still slightly shivering form of the kid before him.

"This is, hum, I don't actually know his name, but he was cold and outside and I didn't see his parents and look how cute and little he is!" Mabel said, hugging the child around the neck, who didn't struggle, but also didn't look very pleased.

"Well, I guess he might as well join us for breakfast," Ford said, pulling up a spare chair as Mabel forcibly sat the light-haired 'kid' in a chair, placing a plate full of pancakes in front of him.

The smell of the food hit Bill like a pile of bricks. His new body was, apparently, completely _starving,_ but he hadn't noticed until the smell had met him and instantly his stomach began to rumble.

"Hungry kid?" Ford asked, smiling lightly. These small-town people never did seem too afraid of strangers, and ever since he'd met his Great Niece and Nephew, Ford had become considerably less paranoid.

Bill forced himself to look away from the pancakes in front of him. "Starving, but you'll probably reconsider feeding me in about five seconds," Bill said, thinking that for sure Six-Fingers of all people would recognize his voice or _something._ This was apparently not the case though as Ford simply looked a little confused.

"I promise we don't bite kid," Stan interrupted.

' _I'm not so sure about that….'_ Bill thought to himself.

Dipper was apparently the only one who actually listened to what the stranger in front of him had said. The voice was vaguely familiar, an itching in the back of Dipper's brain, but he couldn't place it and didn't think too hard on it. No, instead he was considering all of the abnormalities he'd seen in the child already.

' _Where are his parents?'_ Dipper wondered. _'Why wasn't he wearing shoes, just socks? And no jacket, this early in the morning, while it's so windy and moist outside?'_

Dipper considered the situation, the words the boy had said…. _'Why would we reconsider offering him food? That's definitely not a normal thought process, especially for, like, an eight-year-old or something…. And his_ _eyes_ _, so sparkly and_ _gold_ _….'_ The boy's eyes were certainly enchanting, large and a very bright golden color that held immensurable depth and shine in them. The child noticed Dipper's stare and their eyes met. Dipper was startled by the intelligence, understanding and depth that the eyes held, far too advanced for what one would expect to see in an eight-year-old! It took Dipper several long seconds to look past the color of his two eyes and the all-knowing, somewhat frightened look in them and notice….

' _His pupils are slightly elongated into slits, like a cat's eyes, or like….'_ And then it all clicked. Bill, having been staring straight into Dipper's eyes when it happened, could tell the very moment that the realization had hit. Bill's teeth sunk into his bottom lip slightly as he mentally and physically prepared himself for what was to come.

Dipper stood rather abruptly, his chair screeching against the tiled kitchen floor with the motion, a look of fear, excitement, and intense importance taking his features all at once. He slammed his hands down on the table, already having the undivided and quite startled attention of everyone in the room. Bill felt like pleading, dropping to his knees and begging, he felt like tearing them all limb from limb, if only he could! His new-found human emotions, emotions that were amplified by adrenalin and the current situation, already normally ten times stronger than any emotions he'd felt in his natural form, were rolling inside him like an inferno and he had to suppress the urge to gulp, as if it would quench the fire within, the fear, his throat he noticed still dry and parched. He forced himself to hide all of this, to keep his face as neutral as possible, though he suspected he was much less blank-slated than usual, hindered by his current state and human features.

Bill winced almost imperceptibly at the sound of Dipper's hands slamming down on the shaky tabletop, Mabel dropping her fork halfway to her mouth in surprise, all eyes on Dipper.

Dipper composed his features as best he could, his face twisting into a glare as he leveled his gaze at the 'child' in front of him.

Nobody moved as Dipper spoke….

"It's Bill."


	4. Chapter 3: Mercy

**Chapter 3: Mercy**

 **A/N: Warnings for violence and sort-of child abuse (depends on whether you think Bill counts as a child or not).**

The room was dead silent for a few moments; a few very long moments. For so long that Bill actually had to suppress the urge to shift uncomfortably in his chair. Even in his natural form, sitting still had never been something he either did nor enjoyed….

Finally the moment burst, popping like a bubble into a flurry of movement.

"Dipper, Journal 3!" Ford called, Dipper instantly going to grab the journal from where he'd left it on the kitchen counter. Mabel staggered several steps away from the table, getting behind Stan and closer to Dipper in an attempt to feel more secure, to get her bearings and decide what she should do next.

Stan and Ford advanced quickly, Ford falling over the table onto Bill as Stan grabbed his hands and forced them behind his back. In the blink of an eye, Bill was shoved roughly to the floor, unable to suppress the cry of pain he involuntarily let out as their combined weights forced all of the air out of his lungs and his head smacked against the ground, resulting in a small head wound that, as head wounds tended to do, began to instantly bleed profusely. The pain was considerably less hilarious now that the body was, in fact, his actual body and he had no magic to disconnect the pain from what he considered to actually be him himself.

"Careful!" Mabel suddenly called out and for a moment Bill was hopeful that she was going to protect him, but was instead disappointed as she continued by saying "we don't know whose body he's taken over! He still can't use his magic in another person's body, you don't have to be so rough! You'll hurt the kid's body more than Bill himself!" Stan and Ford, registering her words quickly, instantly let up and Bill found himself able to breathe again, gasping in air greedily. He hadn't even noticed he wasn't breathing, what with the splitting headache he had coming on.

Ford looked up as Dipper approached with Journal 3. "In the back, I've written more in the journal, wrote down my notes on how to exorcise Bill out of a body he's possessed! Open it up and start the incantation with holy water!" Dipper nodded and opened it to the correct page, Mabel grabbing a vile of holy water from a kitchen cabinet.

"That's not going to work Six-Fing-…. Stanford," Bill corrected himself, thinking that perhaps now wasn't the best time to be provoking any of them, old Six-Fingers least of all, who would likely be the one to kill him with the least amount of hesitation, as in, no hesitation whatsoever. There was no guarantee as it was that as soon as he found out killing this body would, in fact, also kill Bill himself that he wouldn't be overly pleased and slay him on the spot. Bill could only hope now that The Axolotl knew what it was doing; it wouldn't have sent him here to die, would it? That wasn't what their agreement had been.

Ford ignored Bill's input and moved to allow Dipper easier access to the boy's body. Dipper took the holy water from Mabel and began to splash it lightly in X-shaped swings at Bill while chanting:

" _Gratis, gratis!_

 _Liberum de intrusore qui habitant in corpus!_

 _Gratis, gratis!"_

Bill squirmed when Stan's knee drove a little too strongly into the back of his knee-cap, but otherwise nothing happened.

Dipper looked a little flustered and tried again:

" _Gratis, gratis!_

 _Liberum de intrusore qui habitant in corpus!_

 _GRATIS, GRATIS!"_

When still nothing happened, Dipper looked to his Grunkle Ford, who shook his head, dumbfounded. As far as he could tell, Dipper had done and said everything correctly….

"I told you," Bill said somewhat quietly, still struggling to breathe with his restricted lungs and parched throat. "It's not going to work. There's nobody else this body belongs to…." He gasped a little after the difficulty of speaking without the proper breath to do so. Ford let up a little in his downward force, allowing the demon a chance to breathe easier and speak more clearly.

"Explain, Bill. I bet this'll be good," he said, clearly not trusting the words that Bill was going to speak next, even though they hadn't even been conceived yet.

Bill sucked in another deep breath, raising his head a little so the right side of his face was no longer pressed against the cold tile flooring, looking up at Ford through his golden left eye.

"This is my body. It was made for me, it's never belonged to anyone else, it's currently my one and only form on any plain of existence." Nobody spoke, clearly waiting for more. Bill suppressed a groan and continued. "Right before you lot almost killed me nine months ago, I cashed in on a deal I made a long time ago with a being arguably more powerful than I am, and admittedly infinitely more benevolent than my nature calls for. The deal is that he saves me, and for it he gets to choose what form and time I'm born back into, and I have to seek redemption and accept…." Bill paused, wondering if maybe he could just leave out the next bit.

Ford picked up on his thoughts and asked "So it's your own body, huh?" He grabbed one of Bill's arms from Stanley and pushed upwards, making Bill tense and writhe a bit in an attempt to alleviate the pain shooting through his left arm.

"Alright, alright! I'm supposed to seek redemption and accept punishment in order to absolve my crimes!" Ford didn't let up on his arm one bit.

"And our family's supposed to dish it out? Why are we the ones responsible?" Stan cut in, sounding very clearly displeased and skeptical. Bill looked back at him, his golden eyes shining slightly with tears he didn't know how to prevent.

"Who else?" He deadpanned, and the Pines had to admit, that was a fair point. Who had more of a right to punish Bill than the Pines family? Not to mention the capability. Though, to be fair, it looked like in his current state anyone could easily dish out a bit of punishment.

"Bill," Ford said, and the bright watery golden eyes beneath him shifted from Stan to him and Bill gave Ford his undivided attention. "Punishment, we can do," Ford said, "but redemption? ….Never." Bill's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before Ford lifted up on his left arm again, this time popping it out of it's socket, releasing a cry of agony from the small body on the floor as it writhed in pain. The appendage fell completely limply to the floor, Bill struggling desperately to yank his right arm out of Stan's iron-tight grip so he could use it to cradle his now dislocated shoulder. It was a pain that, in all of his long years of existence, Bill Cipher had never been misfortunate or weak enough to be subjected to, until now.

Mabel held onto Dipper's hand tightly for support, feeling sick to her stomach at the sight before her, but also afraid of the misleading little boy on the floor, pinned beneath her two Grunkles. Dipper had a hard-set look of disgust, rage, and determination as he grasped Mabel's hand almost a little too tightly. Mabel wished she could keep such determination, but watching the child…. Watching _Bill_ (she had to stop thinking of him as just a kid) scream and writhe on the floor with tears in his eyes, short of breath from sobs and pain, made her feel like a horrible person, no matter how much she tried to justify what was happening.

Bill clamped his teeth into his bottom lip now, drawing blood as sharp canines punctured soft pink flesh, trying to quell his screams as his arm felt as if a million hot needles had been plunged deep into it, every nerve on fire all through his fingertips and shoulder blade and neck. He clenched his eyes shut tightly, tears still forcefully leaking from his eyes.

One word here felt important to her though, more important than anything else that had been said since Bill came in the house. It seemed to maybe be the most important to Bill too.

"Redemption," Mabel said, and suddenly she thought she understood.

For the first time since coming in the room, Bill looked back up to Mabel. He could scarcely see her through his teary, blurred vision and down-falling golden strands of hair, still trying to suppress his pitiful sobs and tears. Already he hated this body more than anything….!

Mabel stared back, her eyes never leaving those tear-sparkling golden orbs as she leant down in front of him, Dipper not letting go of her hand or leaning down, standing as if ready to jerk her back to safety if Bill tried anything, and Stan and Fords' holds tightened on the form beneath them. Mabel knelt down on her knees and sat back on the heels of her feet, leaning forward at the waist to look more closely at Bill's deceivingly young-looking face, wincing slightly at the grotesque way his golden strands of hair had turned a horrid dark red color from his still adamantly bleeding head wound.

"Redemption," she said again, "is the main thing you want from us. You want us to help you be good." Bill didn't break eye contact with her and didn't speak, afraid that if he moved at all the two older men behind him would hurt him more, and simultaneously intrigued by what Mabel was saying, an honest and wise look in her eyes. "You want us to help you," she said again. Her frown deepened.

"You want mercy."

That line hit him hard, and Bill suddenly felt his lungs stop functioning once again, this time not by lack of strength or because of restriction, but by the sheer surprise and finality those words instilled upon him.

Mercy…. He _was_ asking for mercy, wasn't he? Mercy, something that Bill knew, without the shadow of a doubt, he could not ask for, and _would not receive_.

Bill lowered his head, breaking eye contact now with Mabel, instead clenching his eyes closed as tightly as he could, until the headache that had faded behind the pain in his arm was an all-consuming throbbing.

Where had been his mercy during Weirdmageddon? Had he even been capable of it? After everything he'd done, without mercy or outward signs of regret, how could he possibly hold any shred of hope to believe that maybe the Pines family would show him mercy? No, that, he knew, was impossible.

' _So this is how it ends,'_ he thought. They might kill him now, or maybe Ford will use him as a science experiment for a while before inadvertently killing him, maybe they'd prolong his agony and suffering for as long as possible. Who knew? One thing was certain to him now though; he'd receive ample amounts of just punishment, and if redemption did find him as The Axolotl had wanted, it would be through the evil being beaten out of him, or else the complete breaking of his soul, if you could even call it that, until not only was there no evil left, but nothing left at all.

Cruel Karma was knocking on his door. Hello? Bill it's for you….

The four people above him in the room shared meaningful glances that he couldn't see. Mabel made eye contact with each and every one of them, and they all knew what she wanted to do next instantly. Stan rolled his eyes but reluctantly nodded. Dipper caved at the first sign of tears in her eyes, and her Grunkle Ford could only hold out for so long. Mabel had made a decision, and with this, none of them were capable of either changing her mind nor stopping her from doing what she was going to do next.

Mabel reached down and lightly touched Bill's silky soft golden hair, avoiding the still growing red stain that crawled across the golden ropes. Bill looked up slightly at the touch, or more accurately he jerked at the contact, and Mabel took the opportunity to place her hands on either side of his face, Dipper reluctantly letting his hold on his sister go. She leaned forward and down again as much as she could, pulling Bill's face upward until their eyes locked again, pained and completely resolved eyes meeting her soft coffee browns, and she could tell he'd given up hope.

"You want mercy?" She asked rhetorically, Bill still staring at her with the most pathetic, resolved look she'd ever seen in her life.

"You've got it."

It took several moments too long for the demon-turned-human to process what she'd said, and Mabel wondered if maybe he really had lost too much blood from his head wound. With a glance at Ford and Stan, the two men were releasing their hold on the demon boy, Mabel carefully drawing him against her, mindful of his left arm which still hung limply down at his side.

It took him several seconds more to fully realize what had just happened, and when it finally hit, he couldn't stop a fresh wave of emotion and tears from hitting him.

' _Curse you Axolotl for giving me such a body!'_ But more than anything he was greatly relieved and, yes, still in quite a bit of pain….

He couldn't stop his small body from shaking like a leaf in the wind as sobs racked through him. He smothered them as much as possible in Mabel's thick purple sweater, Bill thinking the hug completely unwanted or called for and also loving the strange new feeling of it.

"Of course," Mabel said in the most authoritative and reproachful tone she could muster, hugging him slightly more tightly against her body to let him know it'd be okay, "we're still going to be watching you, at all times! This doesn't mean we trust you, or even forgive you! If you want any of that in the _slightest_ you're going to have to work really hard for it! Your leash is as short as it can be Little Mister, and any mistakes at all, even the tiniest of ones, will be punished severely! Understand?" Bill nodded vigorously. He had no idea what "severely" meant in Mabel's book, or in Ford's for that matter, so either way he'd just make sure to be extra careful and try not to do anything to warrant as much pain as he currently felt ever again. Maybe it was the pain talking, but suddenly he felt like sitting perfectly still for the rest of his life so that he could never do anything bad again!

As his cries subsided and turned into gasps, hisses and whimpers of pain, Mabel figured it was time to get him some medical attention….


	5. Chapter 4: One, Two, Three

**Chapter 4: One, Two, Three...**

Ford had something near thirteen PhD's and a lot of unofficial training, and among his skill sets was medical assistance, so they luckily could all avoid a rather hard to explain trip to the hospital, and more likely for Bill, the ER. Bill really did try his hardest not to cry out, but found it simply impossible not to scream another blood-curling scream as Stanley tried to hold him still and Ford forcefully popped his left shoulder back into place. Mabel and Dipper both worked at trying to clean his head wound and stop the bleeding, something neither of them were very successful at until Ford stepped in to take over. He really had lost a lot of blood; just trying to stand up from the floor had made him so dizzy he'd passed out, apparently resulting in a mildly-surprised Mabel with an armful of Bill-in-a-little-boy's-body. At least he was light and, because of his body's apparent relevant age, smaller than her. Dipper had immediately stepped in to help, too.

Within ten minutes he was getting his head bandaged, his arm already in a temporary loose sling made of cloth. Ford had distantly told Bill he'd only have to wear it for a day or two. Bill imagined that, of everyone involved, Ford was probably the most displeased with everything that was happening. Maybe, just _maybe_ , he was even more displeased than Bill himself, though that probably wasn't the case.

Bill made a conscious effort not to look at the no-doubt long cold pancakes still sitting on the countertop, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted with hunger and his throat itched from thirst. Mabel though, bless her, seemed to remember the conversation they'd all been having before Dipper realized it was Bill and brought over a fresh plate of cakes, re-heated in the microwave and topped with syrup, the originally offered pancakes currently a mess on the floor left in the wake of Ford's scramble to tackle Bill from across the table. As an afterthought she poured herself a glass of orange juice and decided to pour one for Bill as well. She set them down on the table next to where Bill sat in a seat as Ford secured the bandage around his head.

Bill eyed the pancakes intensely before looking back at Mabel with wide, almost pleading eyes, and she was startled to realize that he was waiting for permission to eat or something.

"Well go on," Dipper said before she could say anything, and that seemed to be good enough for Bill as he carefully and rather uncoordinatedly picked up the fork with his right hand. Dipper cocked an eyebrow at him. "Don't know how to use a fork, Bill?" Dipper asked, highly doubting that the omnipotent, or previously believed to be omnipotent, triangle guy Bill Cipher had neither used nor seen a fork be used before, or that he couldn't figure it out based on what he'd seen.

"It's not that," Bill said, finally managing to get a smaller piece of pancake free from the larger pancake with the edge of the utensil and skew it on the fork's end. "I am, apparently, quite left-handed." Bill put the piece of pancake in his mouth slowly as Stan and Ford quietly excused themselves from the room, presumably to talk about what they were going to do with Bill and how they could keep the kids safe(ish) throughout the whole ordeal.

Dipper rolled his eyes at Bill's response, but didn't press any further, instead eying the slightly trembling left arm covered partially by the white cloth that made up Bill's make-shift sling. A thought struck him, and Dipper pulled out Journal Number 3 and was about to write on the page discussing Bill, but changed his mind and turned instead to a blank page, writing at the top the title "Bill Cipher's Human Form" and underneath that "Is apparently left-handed."

Bill grabbed the orange juice, trying desperately not to either spill it or drop it in his shaking feeble grasp. He really had hit rock-bottom, hadn't he? Though Bill supposed that things certainly could be a lot worse. For one, they could starve him if they wanted to, yet here he was eating pancakes. Part of him wanted to ask Mabel why she'd shown mercy on him, _how_ she could be so merciful to him after everything he'd done, but he figured that at the very least, now wasn't the right time to ask. Wasn't there a human saying "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth?" Bill had no idea at all what that meant (what was a gift horse and why would it be offended if you looked in its mouth?), but he felt it fit the situation perfectly. He winced when the taste of blood coming from his untreated punctured lip invaded the orange juice and set the glass carefully back on the table.

Dipper dared to venture closer as curiosity got the best of him.

"Hey Bill," he said, stepping close to and slightly behind Bill, instantly making Bill tense and nervous, not being able to see what Dipper was doing behind him. Dipper pointed from behind him at a clock hanging on the wall to their right, Bill following his pointed finger until his eyes settled on it. He glanced at Dipper curiously.

"Do me a favor," Dipper began but stopped. "Actually, not a favor, you can't refuse. Just, look at the clock on the wall, and move your thumb up until it blocks the clock from view." Bill hesitated, but did as was asked of him. "Now, close your eyes one at a time." Bill did as was asked, taking a second or two longer than a normal person used to having two eyes. "With which eye was your thumb still covering the clock?"

It suddenly occurred to Bill that he was, at this very moment, the subject of a minor science experiment. Mabel was curious and copied what Bill was doing, laughing.

"Left," Bill responded slowly and suspiciously, thinking maybe he understood what Dipper was getting at.

"Mine's the right eye!" Mabel said. "What's it mean Dippy?"

Dipper nodded, writing in the notebook. "Most people are right-eye oriented Mabel, like you. It means that if you were to shoot a gun or something, you'd line it up with your right eye for a more accurate shot since it's your dominant eye." Dipper stopped writing and looked up at Bill. "Left-hand dominance is also rare, by the way." Bill felt like smugly responding that he already knew that, which of course he did, but he was still walking on needles so he figured it was best for him to just sit quietly and continue eating.

Stan and Ford re-entered the room a few minutes later, just as Bill had finished off his orange juice, though three-fourths of his pancakes still remained. He really _was_ thirsty…. He'd heard concussions could cause that though.

"Well Mabel," Stan said, "it looks like you've got a new pet," he joked. Mabel didn't look at all humored, but rather a bit scared and disturbed. Dipper scoffed, looking equally displeased. It was barely their first week in Gravity falls and already he and Mabel had gotten a more than fair share of the paranormal weirdness that came with the town. At least Dipper knew now that this summer would likely be just as interesting as the last one, if not more freakish, if that was even possible.

Ford cleared his throat and turned to Bill. "We're going to let you stay here, but there are a few conditions you have to abide by. Think of it as a deal if you have to," Ford said sternly and somewhat dauntingly.

"First and foremost, you're not to hurt _anyone,_ for _any_ reason, not even in self-defense!"

"Secondly, anything we say or do goes. You are not allowed to question what we do to you or tell you to do!"

"Rule three, you're to be under the supervision of one of us four at all times!" Bill wanted to ask if that included in the bathroom or shower, but thought it would be too bold to go against rule number two so quickly after hearing it. Besides, surely they'd give him at least that small amount of privacy…. Right? Even Bill himself had always carefully avoided peeking whenever anyone was indecent; one of the few up-sides to him not being omnipotent was that he had a choice in regards to what he did or didn't see.

"Four, you're not to tell anyone who you are other than to say your name, and are not to tell anyone what happens to or around you unless one of us specifically says it's okay for them to be brought into the loop. Keep in mind that half-truths told to anyone will be considered lies, and won't be tolerated. Your secrets aren't secret anymore Bill, at least not to anyone we say can know. That being said, Wendy and Soos are allowed to know who you are and what's going on here." Bill was almost surprised that he'd thought about these rules so thoroughly in five minutes' time, but then remembered that Six-Fingers was one of the most intelligent and fast-thinking humans he'd ever seen, and settled instead for mildly impressed.

"In relation to number four, rule five is that you're required to answer any questions we ask you completely and honestly, and silence isn't an option! We could ask you the damn meaning of life itself and if you knew the answer you'd have to tell us, no exceptions! Of course we'll be mindful of what we ask and of what we tell you to do." At this point Ford looked to his Great Niece and Nephew, and Bill instantly knew that the last statement had been said as a warning for them more than anything.

"Six, we're going to keep a cage downstairs, right outside of my room. You'll be sleeping there every night, and will probably end up there a lot during the day too, whenever none of us can spare the time to watch you around the Shack." Honestly, Bill had completely expected that one. None of the futures he imagined for himself at the moment involved a bed or what people would normally consider "acceptable living conditions".

"And finally, rule seven; you're not to leave the Shack, of course, unless Stan, myself, or both of the children accompany you! Even then you aren't allowed to be out of sight, not even for a moment! Don't expect to be getting out very often during this whole ordeal." Bill nodded a little, already having been expecting that too.

"Do you understand everything I've just told you and all the rules you're to abide by while you're here?" Bill nodded, and Stan and Ford shared a look.

"Good," Ford said, pulling out a knife from one of his back pockets. Stan grabbed the kids by their arms and gently forced them a few steps back and behind him. Bill, Dipper, and Mabel all looked thoroughly confused, and then both stunned and shocked as Ford handed the blade over to Bill, hilt-first.

Bill stared for a moment at the knife, not daring to actually touch it until Ford jabbed the handle in his direction and said "Take it, Bill."

Bill took it in his right hand, the blade shaking in his trembling grasp. He was both astounded and terrified. Why was Ford doing this? Part of him wanted to ask, but knew it was against the freshly established "don't ask don't tell" rule. He also considered attempting to plunge the knife into the abdomen of the man before him, but that would be entirely stupid and reckless and would guarantee his death, and very likely not Ford's death, so Bill hastily dismissed the idea. Honestly, it was beyond stupid to even consider it, especially since Ford could likely see the thought had crossed his mind, no matter how briefly, especially since Ford was watching him with careful, tense, calculating eyes.

Bill tried not to move once he'd taken the knife, instead just holding it in his unsteady shaking hand, the tip of the blade darting around so quickly that it was a blur under the kitchen light.

Ford finally moved, slowly coming forward until his abdomen was mere inches away from the knife, Bill drawing the tip of the blade back and away from the other man as Ford continued to move closer. Ford lightly grasped Bill's trembling right wrist and set it against the table, Bill easily taking the hint and letting his arm and the knife rest still on the tabletop, the blade's hilt still grasped lightly in his hand.

Ford then reached for Bill's other arm, the one in the sling, removing it from its cloth support, Bill wincing slightly at the movement. He brought Bill's arm up to rest on the table palm-down next to his other one, keeping his large right hand resting lightly over Bill's smaller left one as if to hold it down. With his left hand Ford extended a finger, touching it lightly to the center of Bill's arm, just below the left wrist, and drew it up towards Bill's elbow, finger ghosting lightly in a line over about five inches of pale skin.

"Cut there."


	6. Chapter 5: Lesson One

**Chapter 5: Lesson One**

 **A/N: Warnings for violence and what may be considered torture and/or child abuse.**

 _Previously:_

 _Ford extended a finger, touching it lightly to the center of Bill's arm, just below the left wrist, and drew it up towards Bill's elbow, finger ghosting lightly in a line over about five inches of pale skin._

" _Cut there."_

….

Mabel made as if to protest, but Bill sighed in relief. Without hesitation he lifted the knife in his right hand, no longer shaking in the slightest, and slashed it across his left arm, exactly over the five inches Ford had traced, from his wrist up most of the way to his elbow. He made sure to make it shallow enough not to leave permanent damage, but also deep enough to clearly be enough to please Ford. The result was a long, angry red gash about a fourth of an inch deep going for five inches across his skin. Bill let out only a small gasp of pain, this pain nothing in comparison to either what he'd felt not twenty minutes before nor what he'd expected when he'd first seen the knife. Bill dropped his right hand back onto the tabletop, knife still in grasp, his left arm only slightly trembling from the pain as it lay on the table, blood quickly beginning to overfill the cut and spilling onto the kitchen table.

Ford had jerked back at Bill's sudden movements, startled by his lack of indecision when it came to following through on the order to hurt himself. In all honesty, Bill was finally feeling as if he knew what was going on, and that put him at ease. Making him cut himself? That was the kind of sadistic and predictable thing Bill was used to, Ford was finally acting predictably! And Bill appreciated the reliability in it, he hated nothing more than not knowing what was coming next! This? This he could handle, and besides, what was a little cut next to all of the pain Ford could easily have inflicted with the knife? He actually smiled a little at the more relaxed feeling that was overtaking him, despite the slight blur of his vision that resulted from tears in his eyes, brought on by the throbbing pain still shooting up his left arm.

Ford frowned deeply, wondering what the hell Bill could be thinking at this moment. He was smiling down at the table with tears in his eyes after having not at all hesitated in cutting himself, despite the fact that only a few minutes ago he'd been squirming to avoid pain. Even more surprising was the depth he had forced the blade into his forearm, a simple shallow little cut would easily have sufficed! Did he have a sense of self preservation, or didn't he? Ford figured he certainly does want to both live and avoid pain, but that _something_ in this situation had pleased Bill and put him slightly at ease. Ford was simply incapable of determining what it was. He considered asking, but then figured he might not like the answer….

Instead Ford composed himself and cleared his throat, Bill instantly dropping the smile and tensing back up a little. Ford pulled up a chair and sat to Bill's right, Mabel, Stan, and Dipper all behind him, and lifted his right coat sleeve. He placed his right hand on the table palm-down and with his left index finger drew a small two-inch line across his right wrist.

Again he said "Cut there."

The reaction from Bill was instantaneous, just like last time, but completely opposite. Instead if taking quick action, he tensed up, his body trembling again, the tremor in his right hand returning as he slowly lifted the knife off the table. His brows were tightly knitted together, his mouth open slightly as if wanting to ask a question but knowing he couldn't. He didn't respond, didn't cut Ford's skin, only held the knife a few inches off the tabletop, the blade shaking worse than ever before.

Bill looked between the knife, Ford's wrist, and Ford's eyes. Just when he'd thought things were going to be predictable, easy decisions and orders! Now Ford was pulling shit like this on him?! Bill's eyes drew together more, this time anger taking over his features, and Ford studied him carefully, only scowling in response.

Bill was furious! How DARE Ford put him in such a situation?! Rule two stated that he had to follow all orders unquestionably, but rule one stated that he wasn't to hurt anyone! So what should he do? Surely Ford had put them in order of most importance right? So then Ford was just testing him, wasn't he? The angry look on Ford's face said otherwise, but was that just a ruse? Bill didn't know and it was starting to freak him out, rage and frustration building up inside him. He would like nothing better than to slice Ford a nice deep, long cut right about now! But that would of course defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?

Ford's expression grew angrier, and Bill's own anger was rapidly being smothered by an intense fear that had his stomach churning, threatening to send breakfast back up. " _Now_ , Bill," Ford said sternly, moving forward some. Bill made his decision and decided that surely Ford wasn't serious. Bill lowered the knife somewhat, as if to put it back on the table. At seeing this, Ford's left hand shot forward like lightning, striking Bill _hard_ across the right side of his face, snapping his head to the left and making his head spin, stars erupting across Bill's vision. Bill had dropped the knife onto the table in surprise, lifting his hand to cup at his stinging cheek.

In the background Mabel sternly whispered "Grunkle Ford…." Ford ignored her as Stan held her back, letting go of Dipper, who of course held his tongue and stayed put.

"NOW, BILL!" Ford yelled, and with a downright _pleading_ look on his face, Bill quickly snatched up the knife and in a quick, shaky movement, cut as shallowly as possible along Ford's wrist before dropping the knife back onto the table with a clatter.

Ford sighed, Bill sunk back into his chair a little, wondering if it was alright to feel relieved yet, Mabel stopped struggling in Stan's grasp….

And then Ford's left hand shot forward again, this time grasping Bill's youthful blond hair and yanking him out of his chair, shoving him to the floor before kicking him in the stomach once, twice…. Bill curled in on himself tightly as Ford loomed over his impossibly small body.

Mabel started yelling angrily, struggling in her Grunkle Stan's grasp as he told her it'd be okay, but Dipper had decided he'd seen enough too when a third kick hit home and the cracking of a rib could be heard. He stepped forward and grabbed his Grunkle Ford's arm just before he could go for a fourth kick, yanking on the fabric of his coat.

"STOP! That's enough!" Dipper said, not looking angrily, but instead somewhat pleadingly at Ford, glancing sideways at the distraught but now also silent Mabel. Ford understood what Dipper was implying and sighed, nodded, and turned back to Bill, Dipper letting go of his arm and stepping back again.

Bill was still curled up, gasping as a stinging sensation shot through his abdomen with every breath, waiting for another kick or strike, but none came. Ford leant down near him.

"Bill, look at me," he ordered softly. Bill shivered at the sound of his voice, but uncurled himself a little so that he could lift his head enough to lock eyes with Ford. Ford observed the fear in Bill's golden eyes before sighing faintly. He reached forward and grabbed at Bill's biceps, the demon flinching at the movement and contact but not daring to look away.

Ford sat Bill up until he was kneeling, facing him, Bill's hands set in front of him on his own small lap, Ford's fingers wrapping around the slender wrists lightly and holding them together in their owner's lap. He almost winced as he could feel the warmth of blood quickly coating his right hand where it met Bill's left wrist, the red life force still flowing from the wound, though much more slowly than before.

Ford could tell that Bill was trying hard not to cry or shirk away, failing as he both leaned back slightly and trembled, his eyes pooling with unshed tears. Ford was amazed by how much more of an open book Bill was in this state, his eyes and facial expressions, even his body posture portraying a million different thoughts and emotions, some of which he could read, and others he couldn't distinguish. Bill looked frustrated beyond belief, likely at how weak he currently was and unable to hold back tears where before, as he used to be, he would never _ever_ cry. Ford saw hatred, but got the feeling that it was directed, yes, at Ford himself, but also maybe back inward as well. Bill hated his new body, and this whole situation, but Ford could also swear that he saw a bit of appreciation, marvel and even adoration in his slit golden eyes. He had, after all, always wanted a physical form to call his own, though he likely hadn't in a million years dreamed of having one so weak and vulnerable.

Most importantly, Ford saw fear. Fear that was well-placed, necessary, important…. But God damn it if Ford didn't wish that Bill had an older body! Some of his self-preservation instincts were yelling at him, telling him not to trust him and not to go lightly on him in the slightest! To appreciate that his body was so young and weak, even. Yet another side of him, the instincts that loved and wanted to protect kids like Dipper and Mabel, couldn't help but see him as a child, and no matter how hard he tried to dispel these thoughts they always, always returned.

Bill and Ford stared at each other for a moment, Ford reading Bill as much as he could in his guarded state and Bill trying to predict what was next to come.

"I want you to know," Ford finally began, lessening his hold on Bill's wrists as he did so, "that this wasn't about punishment." Bill looked dumbfounded. "This was your first lesson in redemption."

Bill opened his mouth, questions about to roll off his tongue, but snapped it shut, instead biting into his lip again, accidently re-opening the previous puncture a bit. Apparently chewing on his lip was one of Bill's nervous human habits. He couldn't help but wonder if it was a bodily habit or if it was a result of his own self-conscious and personality.

Ford reached up onto the kitchen table and grabbed an extra bandage, beginning to wrap Bill's wrist as he explained.

"I didn't do that to punish you Bill," his hands paused momentarily in their wrapping and a dark look overtook his features. "Well, at least not mostly. You've lived a long time believing that every decision you made was the right one, at least right for you. Quite the egotistical bastard; I'm sure you can't disagree." Bill nodded a little, he supposed he was a bit…. A lot…. Vain and egotistical sometimes…. All the time….

"During Weirdmageddon I'm sure you realized that your decisions aren't always the best ones, and the fact that you're here now, I think, means that we have a chance to help you make better decisions in the future. However, it's also important for you to know that, especially here in the mortal world, sometimes there simply is no legitimately _good_ decision. Sometimes you have to just choose the better of two horrible options, deal with what you've got, and accept the outcome. Right now your judgment is _worse_ than that of an eight year old's, given _who you are,_ but with lots and lots of luck and hard work, we may be able to change that."

Bill considered what he'd said. Part of him adamantly didn't want to change, and just wanted to go back to what he was before. Heck, a rather large part of him wanted another shot at Weirdmageddon, and he swore to himself he wouldn't make the same mistakes he'd made the first time! Yet, somewhere deep inside, he was also hoping desperately that he could change, given his new form. For a long, long time now he's wished, somewhere deep, deep inside, that he wasn't a demon of destruction and nightmares. Maybe…. Maybe this was his chance to finally be something different….

"I'll make it a little easier for you, for now," Ford said while re-positioning Bill's sling so his left arm could be placed back into it. "Your initial assumption was correct, the rules are placed in order of most importance." By now Bill really was impressed by how much Six-Fingers had planned out while he was out of the room with Stan for those five short minutes. "For now, if there's a conflict of rules, it's a fairly safe bet that you can just work based on which rule is most important, indicated by the order I gave them to you in. In the end it'll come down to your own judgment though, and what you learn from us about making decisions. You still can't question us. If it turns out you made the wrong decision, or a choice that none of us would have agreed with, learn from it, don't argue with it. The ultimate goal is that by the end of this you can automatically come to the same conclusions as we would in trying times. The moral decisions." Ford was well aware that he himself didn't always make the best decisions, and he was hardly the perfect example Bill really needed, but admitting that aloud right now wouldn't do any good. For now, the Pines family was the best Bill was going to get.

Ford stood, offering a hand to Bill. He shakily took it with his good arm, Ford aiding him in getting to his feet. Stan had released Mabel, who looked rather conflicted. Part of her thought that this was a rather cruel lesson, and was hardly the example of purity and goodness that Bill needed, but she also understood the importance of it. She decided right then and there that if Ford was going to be the harsh guiding hand, then she was going to do her best to teach Bill about kindness! She had a feeling she'd already given him a pretty good lesson on mercy.

Maybe later she could teach him the joy of sparkles….!

 **A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed thus far! Your responses have been wonderful and encouraging! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	7. Chapter 6: Caged

**Chapter 6: Caged**

A four-foot by four-foot by four-foot cage was moved to the basement, just outside Ford's bedroom door, as had been promised. Customers were going to be arriving at the Shack soon, as the hour approached eight o'clock, so Bill found himself getting to know his new living conditions for the next several hours. This he was fine with, since he was far too tired to want to move around much anyway. He sat in the corner, leaning against the bars, and curled up, feeling very much like he was becoming a statue all over again as his joints became stiff and sore.

It only took a few minutes for Bill to know everything about the cage that he could, since it was, in fact, so small and plain. The bars were a simple metal, unyielding of course to any prying or kicking. Bill wasn't really trying to escape, just to test the strength of them, or at least that's what he'd told himself. Each bar was about four inches from the one next to it, leaving enough space for him to reach out of the cage but not nearly enough to stick his whole arm out or to try and squeeze out. Even if he could reach further, there was nothing in the immediate vicinity of the cage for him to reach for, nothing that he could grab to occupy the time with, so he simply continued to sit in the corner.

Him being apparently three-foot nine, (why must he be so short? Even by the average size of an eight year old, he was two inches under!) he had just enough room in the cage to stand up straight in it without having to squat, though his hair touched the top, and he could lay down comfortably enough, even stretch out a little if he lay diagonally across the floor.

He slept for a few hours while everyone else was presumably working around the Shack. The sun shone through the basement window for about an hour before disappearing over the edge, leaving the room in a somewhat dim but comfortable light.

At long about one o'clock in the afternoon, when Bill had found he simply couldn't sleep any more, he was pleased to have a visitor. Mabel came down the creaky stairs, Dipper close behind her. He could just pick up the end of their conversation as they came down.

"Seriously Dipper, you don't have to come. He can't hurt me while he's in a cage, and if he'd been hiding his powers he would've used them by now, don't you think?"

"I don't care Mabel," Dipper said in a hushed voice. "I don't want you alone with him. Bill is tricky; his words can be just as dangerous as his powers! I'm not leaving you alone with him if I can help it." At this point they appeared from around the corner and Bill could see Mabel rolling her eyes, a small smile on her face. She appreciated her brother's protectiveness, even if it was a bit overbearing.

Mabel looked up and saw Bill in his cage, just as he'd been left that morning, sitting on the floor and staring at her with big golden eyes that almost glowed in the darkness of the basement. Mabel flipped on the lights, a small but softly bright lightbulb coming to life in the center of the room from where it hung from the ceiling. Mabel pointed to it.

"That lightbulb was made by Grunkle Ford. Like the one in the kitchen, it makes skin softer, and it'll never go bad!" She said, her braces gleaming a little in the light. Bill figured now was the time to be as cute and kind as possible if he wanted his stay here to be as pleasant as could be managed.

"That's very interesting, Shooti-…. Mabel," he corrected himself, a soft but wide smile crossing his face. As was hoped for, she gushed at the cuteness.

"It's alright Bill, you can call me Shooting Star! It's hardly harmful!" Bill smiled wider.

"Well _don't_ call me Pine Tree!" Dipper said, huffing and crossing his arms. Bill was about to ask if he preferred to be called Mason when Mabel interrupted.

"No, actually, do call him Pine Tree!" Mabel said. "I think it's an adorable nickname!" An incredulous look crossed Dipper's face.

"Mabel! Don't tell him that!" He looked back at Bill who was still sitting on the floor of his cage, looking for the most part better than he had that morning, and far less pale. " _Don't_ call me _that_ ," Dipper said again, and it was clear of what he was referring to.

Bill purposefully up-played the look of confusion and confliction he wore, Mabel instantly taking note of it.

"Now you're confusing him Dipper! He can't obey both of us if we tell him to do different things!" Mabel said, motioning to him with her arm.

"Well it's my name, so what I say should matter most! If you don't want him to be conflicted take back what you said about calling me Pine Tree!" Dipper responded, and Bill had to admit, he had a pretty good point.

"Yeah, but I'm Mabel, so he should listen to me!" And despite all the lack of logic in that statement, Bill found this to be a fairly convincing argument as well. As far as Bill could tell, Mabel almost always had her way with this sort of thing, which meant….

"Please Dipper, for me?" She asked, pouting a little bit with her lower lip out. Dipper looked as if he were trying to hold out, but couldn't. "I'm not going to take back my order, so you've _got_ to do it! Pleeaase?" Bill suddenly realized that it had been Mabel's plan all along for the orders to be conflicting and for Dipper to thus be required to recede his. She really was diabolical, wasn't she? Almost as diabolical as him….

With an exasperated sigh, Dipper rubbed his eyes with one hand and gave in. "Fiiiine, he can call me Pine Tree…."

"Yes!" Mabel cheered, fist-pumping in the air. Dipper glared at Bill, who pointedly kept a completely neutral and blank look on his face, though he suspected his eyes might still have sparkled with amusement because Dipper glared harder and turned around. "Just hurry up and do what we came here for Mabel," he said. Mabel nodded and walked up, pulling some things out of her backpack as she sat on the floor near the cage.

"I brought some stuff for you," she said, and in an instant Bill was next to her on the other side of the bars, staring wide-eyed and curious at what Mabel was pulling out. Bill had always, always been a rather curious creature by nature. He did, after all, like to know all and see all, and watch everyone almost exclusively all the time. He liked to know things, and right now, he was greatly enjoying being able to be distracted from his boredom by looking at what Mabel was laying out.

The first thing she pulled out was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, wrapped in a small plastic bag and cut in two diagonally without any crust. Bill was surprised, he didn't think they were actually going to feed him three square meals a day. He'd consider himself lucky to get dinner every day, but lunch too? Certainly not breakfast, though one could always hope….

"I made it myself," Mabel said. "Dipper refused to help me with it, the jerk! I even cut off the crusts because I never eat the crusts either," she said.

"You spoil me, Shooting Star," Bill said with a smile, and Dipper seemed to huff in agreement, which Mabel pointedly ignored.

"Nah, it only took like two minutes, even without my brother helping me," she said. She then pulled out a bottle of water and a small bag of chips.

"Doritos!" She said and laughed nearly hysterically. Bill couldn't help but chuckle too and Dipper rolled his eyes, a small smile gracing his lips as he turned towards them. "Have you ever had them before?" Mabel asked as her laughing subsided.

Bill shook his head. "Besides the pancakes this morning, I haven't eaten in millions upon millions of years. I do occasionally drink though," he responded. "So no, the last time I ate by far predates the invention of Doritos." Mabel and Dipper both looked mildly surprised.

"You've eaten before?" Dipper asked. Bill nodded.

"Yes, I'm capable of eating, and in my younger years I used to eat regularly as a source of energy. At some point I figured out how to sustain myself purely by magic alone and entirely through the Dreamscape. The habit of eating just sort of died off from there." Dipper had once again pulled out Journal Number 3 and was writing in it. Bill guessed he knew exactly what was being recorded.

"Well," Mabel said, handing over the tree items, "anyway, that's lunch. And I'll be back for dinner later tonight. Dipper and I have a lot to do in the shop today, especially since it's the beginning of summer and so many people are here on vacation. Sorry we can't spend more time with you," it struck Bill as both surprising and pleasant that she was apologizing for leaving him _bored_ of all things, "but I thought maybe this could keep you preoccupied." She then produced from her bag two more items, a stack of paper and simple box of crayons. She passed them through the bars.

Bill stared wide-eyed at the items for a moment before accepting them. Dipper almost looked like he wanted to protest, but after a sharp look from Mabel he sighed, shrugged, and let it be.

Mabel stood and dusted herself off. "I'll come back to get you when the Shack closes for the day, and maybe you can help make dinner with me and Grunkle Stan!"

' _Stan and I,'_ Bill thought to himself, but given the circumstances decided not to mention her grammatically incorrect statement.

"I know you probably won't be very good at cooking, since you don't, or I guess didn't used to eat, but you can learn! I can teach you a little!" Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Mabel, you can't cook to save your life! Everything you make is a choking hazard, what with the _dinosaur toys_ and the _glitter_ and the weird ingredient combinations! Remember the time you tried to sell, what was it? Rocky Road ice cream and Tabasco sauce *****? It was, yeah, three women. You hospitalized three women." Dipper looked frightened and Bill was now eying his PB &J rather suspiciously. Was she trying to poison him then….? Was that Dipper's way of warning him? Bill gulped, trying to suppress the lump forming in his throat.

"Dipper, my cooking isn't that baaaaad~!" She observed Bill's face, so adorably horrified now by his lunch. "And I promise I didn't add anything to your sandwich! Just a regular PB&J…."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "It _is_ edible," Dipper said. "The only thing I saw her add was sprinkles to the jelly, so, just watch out for those."

' _Sprinkles in a sandwich?'_ Bill wondered. He opened the sandwich bag and took a bite.

"Y-know," he said, pausing to swallow. "The sprinkles aren't so bad with the jelly. I like it…." He took another bite.

"Ha! In your face!" Mabel practically yelled at Dipper, pointing at him as he huffed. "I told you its good! I eat it all the time!" She turned back to Bill. "I call it 'Mabel's Spectacular Sprinkle PB&J!' Great, right?" Bill wasn't sure what he should say, so he just nodded instead.

Dipper opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a call from upstairs. "Kids!" Stanley called down the stairs. "Lunch break's over! Get back up here and man the register!" With a sigh, Dipper and Mabel headed for the stairs.

"Well, we'll see you tonight, 'kay Bill?" Bill nodded and waved back as they disappeared around the corner, the stairs creaking in their assent.

Bill continued to eat his sandwich and sip his water; he gave up on the chips when he found it impossibly hard to open the bag, especially with only one hand. He could always eat them later: His left arm and wrist were feeling far too sore to try and use at the moment. As he ate he eyed the paper and crayons, and contemplated everything that'd happened while the Pines Twins had been down here with him.

' _Why were they so nice to me? Or, at least Mabel was really kind. Surely she must still hate me after everything I've done. I ruined her little puppet show, possessed her brother's body, nearly destroyed her town, imprisoned her in a bubble and promised her to that short baby man Gideon…. Is she just trying to prove a point with me or something? What is she trying to prove? Does she stand to gain something?'_ Bill supposed that with all of his powers possibly thrown into the mix down the line, the entire Pines family certainly did have something to gain by 'reprograming' him. If they managed to pacify him, they'd essentially have access to all of his powers. All they'd have to do is tell him what they wanted him to do for them….

' _Do I want that?'_ Bill wondered. _'Do I want to allow them to take over_ _me like that? Even for the sake of redemption? Is there really anything I can do to stop it, or is this my life now?'_ Bill didn't know, but it frightened him somewhat. Of course it did. He hated almost nothing more than being so limited in sight. In some ways he'd always been like a human: The unknown terrified him just as much as any person, perhaps even terrified him more than it did a regular person. And he was used to being able to see most anything, he used to be able to uncover any secrets that he wished. But now? He was completely hopeless and blind by comparison.

Bill sighed, finished his sandwich, took another sip from his water bottle, and set to drawing a yellow triangle in a cage….

 ***If you know what this reference is to, I'll give you a prize. Dedicate a chapter to you or let you make a request for something to happen in the story. Idk. Anyone know what it's from? :)**


	8. Chapter 7: Yellow

**Chapter 7: Yellow**

Several hours had passed since lunch before Mabel came down to get Bill, just as she'd promised she would. It was seven o'clock, about time to start dinner, and Mabel was running down the stairs with the key to Bill's cage. She'd specifically avoided running into Dipper along the way: Part of her was still scared of Bill, but she figured she could handle him, she was strong enough and he was so small and weak right now, she didn't need a body guard! Besides, she thought Bill may open up more to her if Dipper wasn't hovering around; she wanted to know more about him, but she also didn't want to force him to answer questions. For whatever reason, she wanted him to trust her, even if she'd never trust him.

Mabel got to the bottom of the stairs and walked up to Bill's cage. She paused with the key in her hand as she spotted Bill, curled up and fast asleep in the corner of his cage. Next to him was a still closed bag of Doritos and the stack of papers she'd given him. She noticed a bit of color on the top page. As quietly as possible, she opened the cage and stepped inside, looking at the stack of papers.

On the top one was a depiction of Bill's summoning circle. She figured that of all things, he would be likely to draw the circle that was so essential to his history and existence. Underneath the circle on the page was a garble of characters she couldn't read.

She considered going through the stack and looking at the other drawings, or having Dipper decipher the message at the bottom, but would that really be a nice thing to do? Mabel thought not, and while normally she had no sense of boundaries, Bill wasn't her friend, or brother, or Grunkle.

Mabel left the stack of paper as it was and instead reached up and gently shook Bill's shoulder, hating to wake him while he appeared to be sleeping so peacefully. He really did look like nothing more than an adorable eight year old while he slept….

Bill groaned a little and sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning a little tight yawn as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room.

"Did you like coloring?" Mabel asked. Bill started, standing abruptly and wincing as the motion jostled his cracked ribs.

"Woah, sorry, didn't mean to scare you!" She laughed, realizing that perhaps walking into the cage that was essentially now his bedroom was a bit insensitive.

"No, no, it's fine," he said, now thoroughly awake, trying to regulate his breathing. "It's just a good thing I don't have my powers. A scare like that would have me burning the whole room." Bill winced at the honesty in those words, wondering how Mabel would react. He was pleasantly surprised when Mabel laughed in return.

"Been there, done that!" She said with a wave of her hand. "Dipper once caught our bedroom curtains on fire during a thunderstorm! The lights had gone out so we were using candles, and I snuck up behind him to scare him. Of course, he dropped the candle! Mom and Dad were so mad…." She recalled fondly. "Well, come on! I told you, I'm gonna teach you how to make dinner! Grunkle Stan's already gotten out the tomato sauce and cheese!" Mabel stood, taking the unopened bag of Doritos with her as she went.

"Tomato sauce and cheese?" Bill asked as he followed her out of the room, feeling much more like himself now that he'd properly rested, gotten at least somewhat used to his body, and knew well enough what his situation looked like. "Am I allowed to ask what it is exactly we're making?"

"PIZZA!" Mabel said in her usual over-enthusiastic tone as they reached the top of the stairs. "And YOU mister are going to eat Doritos! Why haven't you eaten them already?" She asked, looking down at the bag.

Bill blushed a little. "I…. Couldn't open the bag," he mumbled. Mabel laughed.

"Alright, you can have them at diner! I bet you'll love them! And chips go great with pizza, I think. I mean, THEY'RE BOTH SHAPED LIKE TRIANGLES AND ARE YELLOW! IT'S THE PERFECT MEAL FOR YOU!" She held her fingers up in a triangular form, laughing as they continued up the stairs, towards the attic. "But first I'm taking you up to mine and Dipper's room to change," she said, grimacing as she leant in and whispered "your clothes are kind of bloody. Sorry we didn't have you change sooner, it took some convincing for me to get Dipper to lend you something, and it took time for me to make you a sweater!" Bill looked ashamed, confused, and somewhat flattered all at the same time. They approached the attic door, Dipper waiting there with some clothes in hand.

"Here," he said, shoving them into Bill's unsteady grasp. He thankfully managed not to drop anything. "It's just a white undershirt and some black sleeping pants I left here last year. They're smaller than anything I have now, but I doubt they'll fit you. Bathroom's to your right," Dipper said, jutting his thumb in the right direction. Bill nodded and went to change, thankful when no one moved to follow him. It seemed he would be allowed privacy at least some of the time.

Mabel entered hers and Dipper's bedroom while Bill was changing, grabbing the freshly-knitted sweater off of her bed. When Bill emerged from the upstairs bathroom a few minutes later, it was overly clear that the clothes were too big for him. He had the pants legs rolled up, the white T-shirt tucked in so it wouldn't hang to his knees, and he'd tied the waist of the pants in a tight knot so that they wouldn't slip down his waist. He'd also apparently deemed it necessary to run some water through his hair in an attempt to get rid of the caked-on red blood stains from that morning, also removing the no longer necessary bandaging. His hair was still damp from the water, though he had wrung it out some, strands of it sticking to his small forehead in wet clumps.

Mabel ran up with the soft sweater material clutched tightly in her hands, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet. "You're so cute I could just hug you to death!" She squealed, making both Bill and Dipper wince at the high pitch. "LOOK HOW TINY HE IS DIPPER! AND THE CHUBBY CHEEKS!" She looked like she wanted to pinch them; Bill was infinitely grateful when she restrained herself.

"Yeah, Mabel, I see him," Dipper said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. He had to admit, even if silently, that Bill's body was adorably young.

"Hey, where'd your sling go?" Mabel asked as she noticed Bill's left arm hanging neutrally at his side. "You're supposed to wear it for another day at least!"

Bill shook his head. "I don't think I need it," he said. Dipper nodded, this time truly noting how much better Bill looked than he had this morning.

"Advanced healing still working for you?" Dipper asked. Bill nodded slightly.

"At least somewhat. It's definitely not as advanced as usual, and it makes me sleep quite a lot, but I suppose it is at least a little active. My powers still exist, are still locked somewhere inside me, I just have no form of conscious control over it whatsoever. I'm sure The Axolotl chooses what I can and can't do." Dipper looked confused, and Bill had to suppress a groan as the boy once again pulled out his Journal and began taking notes in it. "Enjoying the intel, Pine Tree?"

Dipper glared a little, snapping the book shut. "As a matter of fact I am. I still have to ask Grunkle Ford to draw you into it; he's a much better artist than I am. And let me tell you, he was _not_ happy when he had to re-create all three Journals after you burnt the originals last year. It's a sore subject with him, best you avoid it."

' _Is he giving me advice on how not to piss off Fordsie?'_ Bill wondered, mildly surprised.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"By the way, what's 'The Axolotl'? You haven't mentioned it before," Dipper asked, clicking his pen in thought. Bill opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short by Mabel.

"Hey Bill, I got something for you!" Mabel said, interrupting them as she pounced forward onto Bill, shoving the sweater down over his head. Bill gave a half-yelp of surprise, but didn't fight back. He shrugged the sweater on the rest of the way as Mabel stepped back to observe her handiwork.

Bill stared down, mildly amused. It was a perfect fit, slightly loose but not overflowing, and it covered up the fact that the clothes underneath were far too large rather well. It was thick, soft, and the exact same bright color of yellow as the shirt he'd woken up in, the same color as his true form. In the center was a simple black depiction of his eye, the one self-proclaimed all-seeing eye that he normally had in his natural state, a single slit pupil giving off the illusion of always staring directly at you, no matter where in the room you stood. Bill laughed.

"It's perfect," he said.

"Yeah, perfectly creepy," Dipper said, frowning deeply. "Did you have to make it look like the eye is following you Mabes?" He asked uncomfortably, shifting this-way and that-way in an attempt to get the eye on the front of the sweater to stop looking at him.

"Yes! And I think it's adorable!" Mabel said, grabbing one of each of Bill's and Dipper's arms as she began dragging them back downstairs. "Now come on! Or Stan's gonna make the pizza without us! MUST ADD SPARKLES AND SPRINKLES!"

Neither Bill nor Dipper tried to fight her in the slightest.


	9. Chapter 8: The Joy of Sprinkles!

**Chapter 8: The Joy of Sparkles!**

 **A/N:** **This chapter is dedicated to Quiet Leaf for knowing that the reference in chapter six was to the YouTube video "Hot Kool Aid" by Julian Smith. As was requested, there's a pretty cute, funny, and ironic Dorito scene in here. Thanks Quiet Leaf for reviewing and loving this story so much! You da best!**

 **Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, and favorited thus-far! I hope you enjoy the chapter. And Remember! Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, BUY GOLD!**

….

The atmosphere could be described as nothing short of…. _Tense._ Mabel, of course, tried her hardest from the moment they stepped into the kitchen to make the room feel as bright as possible, but with Ford sitting at the kitchen table tinkering with something and Bill suddenly closing off all of the doors he'd let open with Mabel, everyone was starting to feel the tension.

"GRUNKLE STAN!" Mabel had immediately yelled upon entering the room, still dragging Bill and Dipper behind her. She let go of Dipper and he went to sit by Ford, but she continued to drag Bill around like her newest and best doll. "Grunkle Stan, Bill is going to help us make the pizza!" Mable yelled, despite the fact that she was now standing only two feet away from her Great Uncle. She held Bill out in front of her towards Stan, as if proving that she had, in fact, brought Bill up to help make dinner. Stan looked down at him from his spot in front of the stove, wearing nothing but a stained wife-beater shirt and his underpants. The look on Stan's face spoke of boredom and disinterest.

"Just don't poison anything," he said, going back to cutting up slices of pepperoni from a cylinder of red meat.

Bill was trying very hard to tell if he was serious. _'I mean, I know not to poison anything! But does he actually think I would? ….You know what, even_ _ **I**_ _think I might have at least considered it if given the chance, so yes, he probably meant it quite literally….'_ Bill concluded to himself.

Mabel just laughed though. "Oh Grunkle Stan, you're so funny!" She said, hopping up on the counter and poking his nose. "Boop!"

Bill stood nearby and watched intently as Mabel explained what order the ingredients went on the pizza while Dipper and Ford chatted at the table, their eyes never leaving Bill.

"He sure looks a lot better," Ford commented and Dipper nodded, pulling out Journal 3 and setting it on the tabletop.

"Yeah, he washed some of the blood off, and his advanced healing abilities have been kicking in." Dipper and Ford shared a glance. "Not his full abilities," Dipper corrected. "Otherwise I think he would have healed his ribs more thoroughly by now; I noticed they were still bothering him as he was on the stairs." Ford nodded and they continued to watch Bill as Mabel handed him a container of what appeared to be a mix of sprinkles and sparkly glitter. "He thinks something called The Axolotl is in charge of deciding what powers he can and can't use. I think maybe that's the name of the being he said he made the deal with." Ford nodded.

"Perhaps. I know what an axolotl is, they're water-faring salamanders, sometimes also known as Walking Fish, though they aren't technically fish but amphibians, like frogs. I've known people to keep them as pets; I highly doubt Bill was referring to a regular axolotl though, especially if he thinks it controls and limits his powers."

"Yeah, he always calls it _The_ Axolotl, as in the one that matters, or the only one, or something. He surely can't just mean a regular water-lizard or whatever." Dipper thought aloud, rubbing his chin in ponder.

"There's also the chance he's just lying, or messing with us," Ford said. "If that's the case, I have to find out and make sure to put a stop to it." Dipper nodded in agreement.

"For now, do you think you could….?" Dipper opened the Journal to the page where he'd been writing about the human form of Bill Cipher and handed over a pen.

"Sure," Ford said, beginning to draw, glancing up every once in a while to look at Bill, both for the accuracy of his drawing and to make sure he wasn't trying to cause trouble. As he drew, Ford glanced over some of the notes Dipper had taken. "It's good that you thought to start a page for this," he told his Great Nephew. "Some of it may come in handy later."

Dipper smiled, pleased that he'd earned his Great Uncle Ford's approval. "Maybe later we can look into The Axolotl and if everything checks out, we can add a page for it in the Journal." Again Ford nodded, not looking up from his sketch of Bill in his new human form, the drawing on the page depicting what Bill had looked like when he'd first come into the Mystery Shack that morning.

….

Bill tried very hard not to glance over at Old Fordsie, nervous about just being in the room with who could easily be called his greatest enemy, and who was easily five times his size and strength at the moment. He well enough preoccupied himself with what Mabel and Stan were doing.

Stan groaned as Mabel pulled out a bottle of glitter, sparkles and sprinkles. "Mabel, honey, how many times do we have to go over this? You can't put that on a pizza! It's inedible!" He said as he spread tomato sauce over a flat disk of dough with a spoon.

"C'mon Grunkle Stan, I eat it all the time!"

"You ain't normal kid, and you shouldn't. Be honest here, how often do you throw up?"

"Like every few days." Mabel said it as if it were an accomplishment.

"I rest my case, then. At least I know it's getting out of your system somehow." Stan groaned and began to sprinkle cheese over the tomato sauce.

"Bill!" Mabel screeched, handing him the container of sparkly objects. "Eat some and tell Grunkle Stan it's good!" Bill grimaced, glanced at Ford in the corner of the room, and began to pinch an amount of the mixture between his fingertips, bringing it up in front of him to inspect it. He bit his lip, and a thought struck Mabel.

"Wait!" Bill paused with the mix half-way to his mouth. "That's not an order," Mabel said. "You don't _have_ to do it if you don't want to."

Bill sighed in relief and let the mix he'd held between his fingers fall back into it's container. "Oh thank God," he said, clearly relieved that he wouldn't have to choke down the mix. Mabel smiled at him, looking somewhat disappointed and sad.

Bill signed, looked down at the mix, looked back up at the sad smile on Mabel's face, and shut his eyes tight before pouring a somewhat generous amount into his mouth and swallowing. He instantly began hacking and coughing up a storm as Stan laughed his ass off.

"Jesus Cipher! Just because Mabel's smile wasn't one-hundred percent genuine you swallowed a load of that plastic sugary crap?!" Stan and Mabel both laughed hysterically.

Bill continued to cough for a moment before wheezing out: "Yes, well, I'm apparently a complete imbecile. You said this wouldn't kill me, right Shooting Star?" He wheezed in another breath.

She nodded through teary-eyed laughter. "Oh yeah, you'll be fine, but you'll find sparkles coming out your nose for a few hours." She handed him a glass of water which he took in shaky hands, swallowing it all down in moments, pleased when the tickle in his throat lessened *****.

"I look like a Gnome threw up on me," Bill moaned as he looked down at himself, multi-colored sparkles covering the front of his shirt and the floor. Was he truly incapable of keeping himself clean for even a few short minutes? He began to rub off the glittery objects, some of them persisting and staining his new sweater with glitter that gave it an almost gold-like appearance and shine.

Stan had finally stopped laughing. "Yeah, none of that on the pizza kiddo." He pat Mabel on the head.

"Fine, I'll just put it on two slices, one for me and one for Bill!" Bill groaned again, but Mabel didn't wait for an actual protest before pouring the concoction over a fourth of the pizza.

Stan finished by placing the pepperoni slices on the pizza and placing it in the pre-heated oven. He looked from Mabel to Dipper and back. "Why don't you kids go play while the pizza cooks? It'll be at least ten minutes. Find something to watch on the TV or somethin'. Ford and I can watch Bill, or you can take him with you, I don't care." Mabel nodded enthusiastically, hugging Bill around the neck, pulling him out of the room.

"Dipper, come on!" She called back over her shoulder. Dipper sighed, picked up Journal 3 with its now illustrated page on a human Bill Cipher, and ran out after her.

He followed her into the living room where she'd just set Bill on the couch and handed him the TV remote.

"Find something good to watch!" She said. Bill looked thoroughly displeased with this order, but she ignored his…. Well, Dipper could really only describe it as a _pout._ He would have been surprised but, looking back on everything and what type of very strange personality Bill had, Dipper figured it actually fit him pretty well to pout a bit, especially if he was trying to play up his new form's 'adorableness factor'.

Mabel came over to Dipper. "That should keep him busy for a while," she said.

"Mabel," Dipper began, "why are you acting so calm around Bill? How can you be so at ease? And why are you being nice to him? He's not one of our friends!" He said in a harsh whisper as Mabel shushed him, not wanting Bill to overhear their conversation.

"Yeah, Dipper, of course it still freaks me out that it's _Bill,_ but letting that show isn't going to help any of us. If anything, being nice to him while he's vulnerable, trying to act normal around him, don't you agree that that'll have the best influence on him?"

"Honestly Mabel, I don't think he's going to change at all. I think that if he ever gets his powers back, the first thing he's gonna do is kill us!" Mabel shushed him again and Dipper continued in another quiet but harsh whisper. "He may be defenseless now, but he's probably not going to stay that way, knowing him. He'll figure something out... He can already heal himself at least partially abnormally, how long before he's too powerful to beat? He won't make the same mistakes he did last time, he'll kill us for sure! Honestly? I don't know why we don't just kill him now while we have the chance."

Mabel glared at her twin. "You really don't have any hope, bro? Because, yeah, I think that maybe this could all go horribly, horribly wrong and we could all die horrible deaths, but killing Bill when he's defenseless doesn't sound like a victory either, and what if he really is capable of changing and we don't do everything we can to make sure that happens? Besides, I know he's done a lot of horrible things, and he's hurt people, maybe even killed people, and he's far from perfect, but we don't really know all that much about him, do we?"

"We know enough!" Dipper interjected. "Enough that we should-"

"Should what?" Mabel asked. "Play the role of judge, jury, and executioner? He started Weirdmageddon, yeah, but is that really enough to sentence him to _death_?" Dipper sighed.

"Okay, Mabel, okay. I get it. We don't actually know as much about him as we'd like to think, and at the very least you think it's at least _possible_ for him to be good and get redemption or whatever. Fine. But Mabel? Please, please, _please_ be careful around him. If you're too friendly, as soon as you start to trust him, he'll stab you in the back. Or heck, even if he really is trying to change, he can still screw up, make a mistake and you end up dead as a consequence. You understand, don't you?" Mabel sighed.

"Okay Dipper, I get it. I won't stop being nice to him and stuff, but I'll keep my guard up. I'd hate for the Mystery Twins to be reduced to just the Mystery Pinhead." Dipper chuckled lightly.

"Kids, pizza's ready!" Stan called from the kitchen and Mabel ran to grab Bill from in front of the TV. He was currently watching _the News._

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Gosh, you're so _Bill-ish._ " She said, to which Bill responded with a "no, _really?"_ before being pulled back towards the kitchen. So what if he wanted to know what was going on in the world? He liked to know things….

They entered the kitchen as Stan set the pizza in the middle of the kitchen table, picking up a pizza slicer and cutting it into six roughly equal slices. Two of the slices were covered in still-slightly-glittery burnt-looking flecks and Bill gulped, deciding that perhaps he could scrape it off, or else skip dinner. Of the two sparkly slices, one was larger than the other, and it was this larger slice that Stan set on Mabel's plate before setting the smaller one on Bill's. Stan continued to pass out the other slices, placing one equally-sized slice each on Ford's, Dipper's, and Stan's own plate.

While it appeared no one else was looking, Stan nonchalantly slipped the left over sixth slice on to Bill's plate with a wink before sitting down and beginning to eat his own slice. It was at this moment that Bill realized that Stan had cut the pizza into six pieces instead of five on purpose, specifically so that Bill wouldn't be stuck with only the darkly-flaked slice Mabel had corrupted. Bill couldn't help but smile a little. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why Stanley would do this for him, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

They ate in silence of a while, excluding the quiet whispering between Dipper and Ford and the occasional cough from Mabel as she seemingly happily dug into her pizza.

"Oh yeah!" Mabel said, drawing the attention of Stan and Bill. Dipper and Ford glanced in her direction, but quickly went back to talking to each other. Mabel reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out the bag of Doritos.

"They are a hassle to open," Mabel said, "and I _could_ teach you how to open it the right way, but I'm not going to!" She held the bag over Bill's plate up-side-down. "This way's much more fun!" She clapped, smashing the bag between her hands.

Bill jerked back, startled, as a loud and sudden _"pop"_ sound erupted from the bag and chips flew. Most of them landed on his plate, but some of them ended up on the floor or, for one lucky chip, in Stan's hair. Mabel giggled madly.

Stan rolled his eyes, picking it out of his short hair and flicking it to the ground where Waddles was already munching away. "Very funny, Pumpkin."

Mabel pointed to the triangle-shaped yellow chips that had landed on Bill's plate. "See? Yellow triangles, just like a piece of pizza and just like you! These are Cool-Ranch flavored. My favorite are the Jalapeño Nacho Cheese ones!" Dipper rolled his eyes, deciding to enter the conversation momentarily.

"Mabel, you only _think_ you like them. You can never eat more than two before having to run and get a glass of milk. It takes you a week to eat one bag! And they aren't even that spicy…." Mabel waved her hand dismissively.

"Psh, yeah, whatever," she disregarded him and he shrugged, going back to looking over the Journal with Ford. "Anyway, you got to try them Bill!" Bill quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Excited about this, aren't we Shooting Star?" Ford glanced at him from across the table, but didn't say anything. "They can't be worse than the glitter, I'm sure."

Mabel shrugged. "They're okay, I mean, I guess they really aren't anywhere near close to being my favorite food…. I'm just excited because, well, you'd be a Dorito eating a Dorito! It's hilarious! Like cannibalism!" Dipper intervened again

"Mabel, you _cried_ when Waddles ate bacon accidently!" Again Mabel brushed him off.

"This is different! It's BILL, eating DORITOS! A week ago we wouldn't have even thought it possible! Now eat!" Mabel said, pointing at the chips covering his half-finished slice of pizza.

"Okay, okay, yeeesh." Bill picked one up and popped it into his mouth. He began to chew, the loud crunching filling the silence. He was half-way done eating the chip when he stopped.

"What is it?" Mabel asked as Bill covered his mouth with his hand, looking a bit like he was going to be sick, staring down at the table intently, not looking up.

Bill had the overwhelming urge to spit out the half-finished chip and hide under the table. It wasn't that the chip was bad, no, in fact it was pretty good, it was just, _'they're all looking at me!'_

He managed to finish chewing and swallowed.

He coughed a little. "Why are you all _staring at me?_ " He managed to get out, fidgeting in his seat, glancing uncomfortably at everyone, all of them watching him intently. "It's _horribly_ unsettling to have you all just sitting there, watching me while I eat! It's _creepy!"_ At this, Ford laughed a loud, boisterous laugh. Bill was so startled to hear the sound coming from _Ford_ of all people that he nearly fell out of his chair.

"What, Bill, you're creeped out because people are _watching you_?" Ford asked, and at this point everyone other than Bill himself was laughing nearly hysterically. Bill chuckled lightly.

"Okay, yes, I suppose that's a bit ironic and ludicrous," Bill conceded, smiling tightly, still not enjoying being the center of attention for this particular crowd.

"Aright, fine, it's funny, but the _chips!_ How was it?" Mabel asked, drawing them back to the main topic of discussion.

"Better than anything I've had in millions of years," Bill said cryptically.

"You've only eaten pizza, a PB&J, Pancakes, and _glitter with sprinkles_ in the last millions of years," Dipper said. "And that was all just today. Today is the only day you've eaten in over a million years!"

Bill smiled. "Precisely." Mabel poked him in the side.

"But you still like it?" Bill nodded. "Better than anything else you've had so far?" Another nod. "Alright then, now we have to search for something you like better than Doritos! I have to know if it's your absolute favorite food and the only way to do that is to have you try a bunch of things!" Mabel said enthusiastically. "I wonder if you'll like donuts with sprinkles better…. That's my personal favorite!"

For the rest of dinner Mabel talked about all the foods Bill would have to try while Dipper and Ford chatted. When dinner was over, Stan pointed at Dipper.

"Dipper, do the dishes," he said. Dipper moaned a little, but other than that silently picked up all of the plates and set to work, dumping Bill's untouched sparkle-slice in the trash. Bill was thankful that if Mabel noticed that it went uneaten, she didn't say anything.

Dipper didn't mind doing most of the chores around the house anymore, not since he'd learnt that his Grunkle Stan only made him do them to toughen him up. Actually, looking back at it, that was the first time they'd met Bill…. So, technically, without Bill, Dipper might of always thought that Stan hated him….

Dipper shook his head. That still didn't mean he owed Bill anything, and Bill was still definitely the bad guy as far as he was concerned.

The other four occupants of the Mystery Shack headed to the living room, Stan sitting down in his chair and Mabel perching on his left armrest. Bill pointedly took a seat on the floor next to Mabel as she turned the TV on, switching through channels.

Ford walked by them and towards the front of the Shack, but paused in the doorway.

' _Can't let Bill know where the entrance to my underground lab is if he doesn't already know….'_ Ford thought to himself, glaring down at Bill as he sat on the floor. Well, there was only one way to know….

"Bill," Ford said, making Bill jump, his back going rigid and straight.

"Yes Ford?" Bill asked, looking up at him carefully through his curtain of golden hair, only slightly illuminated by the TV light. Ford considered telling Bill to refer to him as _Sir_ , but sternly reminded himself that Bill _wasn't_ a young child, was in fact much, much, _much_ older than him, and while it would do Bill some good to show respect, the idea overall was laughable. Bill was a demon, an old one, and while he was, in Ford's opinion, the most dangerous creature he'd ever encountered, he did deserve some form of respect. After all, how could one _not_ respect such a powerful being? Respect for power was both natural and necessary….

Ford frowned deeper and refocused on the task at hand. "Do you know where my lab is?"

Bill made a small "ah" noise, as if realizing what Ford was getting at. "Yes," he glanced at Mabel and Stan before deciding that it was safe to assume they already knew. "You are referring to the one behind the vending machine, are you not?"

' _Guess that means he knows about the one by the old tree, too,'_ Ford thought, but nodded and turned to leave. He paused and turned back again.

"Do you know the code to get in?" Ford asked.

Bill hesitated, considering his options carefully, before responding: "I assume that come tomorrow morning I no longer will," Bill said, then as an afterthought "and I suppose that I should also mention that there are, in fact, several ways down that you may or may not even be aware of. It's not nearly as secure as you'd like to think, I can assure you." Ford nodded, somewhat having been expecting as much. He'd already discovered one of those ways when Dipper fell through a hole under the house last year.

"I kind of figured." Ford shook his head. "I'll leave the code as it is for now, but if you ever go down there, especially without permission, I'll kill you." Ford leveled him a blank and serious stare, Mabel trying to ignore what was going on and failing, and Bill instantly knew that Ford meant his threat most literally. Bill nodded minutely and Ford turned to leave.

Stan put on some kid's show called _"Ducktective"_ that Bill had observed them watching before on more than one occasion. Bill let his mind wander as Dipper finished the dishes and sat down to watch with them, sitting on the armrest opposite of Mabel's.

It wasn't until the end of the episode that Mabel noticed Bill had fallen asleep on the floor next to her, despite the fact that it was only about eight o'clock at night. She supposed that his body _was_ still healing, and he'd said earlier that the advanced healing made him easily exhausted. On top of that, her parents had made her and Dipper go to bed super early when they were younger, and Bill's body was only about equal to that of an eight years old's. Mabel made a mental note to ensure that he always went to bed by nine, whether he liked it or not!

They watched a few more episodes before Grunkle Stan decided to call it a night. "You kids can stay up if you wanna, but I'm not getting any younger, and it's been one hell of a day. I'm going to bed."

"Okay, goodnight Grunkle Stan," both Dipper and Mabel said as their Grunkle headed for the stairs. "We should put him to bed too," Dipper said, nodding his head at Bill. "He's young, and healing. He needs rest." Mabel gushed. "What?"

"Aww, Dippy, you're so nice! I thought I was going to have to be the one to take him downstairs!" Dipper rolled his eyes as he stood up.

"Yeah, whatever." He stepped up next to Bill and stared down at him for a moment. "What should I do? Kick him awake?"

"No!" Mabel said in a harsh whisper. "If you do that he'll never let his guard down enough to sleep near us again! And he's so adorable when he's asleep! How could you even think about kicking that?" She gestured with both hands rather enthusiastically at where Bill sat slouched against Stan's chair, his right cheek squished against the material of Stan's cheap old recliner.

Dipper sighed. "Okay, fine, what should we do?" Mabel adopted a most mischievous grin.

"You should carry him downstairs," she said, poking him in the side with a huge grin on her face.

"What? No!" Dipper harshly whispered, a most incredulous look on his face.

Mabel was about to say "please" when Dipper sighed, quickly realizing where this was going. When it came to matters of cuteness, there was no refusing Mabel.

"Fiiiine…." Dipper leant down to quickly scoop up the sleeping demon.

"Careful!" Mabel interrupted before Dipper could touch him. "Don't hurt him, or wake him up! If you wake him up he _definitely_ won't let you carry him!" Dipper groaned quietly and this time _carefully_ picked Bill up, his left arm going behind Bill's knees and his right wrapping around Bill's back.

Mabel grinned again and ran ahead downstairs, Dipper following slowly behind her, mindful not to bump anything or drop his cargo down the stairs, though the thought did cross his mind for a moment. The only reason he didn't send Bill rolling down the wooden steps was because Mabel would be absolutely _furious_ with him if he did that, and while he might not care for Bill _at all,_ he definitely loved his sister, and for whatever reason, Mabel seemed to be developing a little bit of an attachment to Bill.

Dipper couldn't help but think that this whole "helping Bill" thing wouldn't end well.

 ***When I was young I swallowed quite a bit of glitter, confusing it with sweet sugary sprinkles. I was only about six or seven at the time; it was most unpleasant. It really does end up in your nasal cavity….**

 **I swear I'm not an idiot. XD**


	10. Chapter 9: Working?

**Chapter 9: Working?**

 **A/N: I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thanks to all of my lovely readers for following, favoriting, and reviewing!**

Bill awoke the following morning in his cage, curled up on his side on the floor, the sunlight shining through the basement window. Going off of what he'd seen yesterday, that meant that it was roughly eight o'clock. Had he truly slept for twelve hours?! Bill blinked groggily and sat up, instantly pleased when he noted a distinct lack of pain in his ribs. He looked down at his left arm, noting that the previously thick, long, deep gash was well past the scabbing stage and was now only a slightly still irritated red mark on his skin, fresh skin already closed over the opening and all reminders of blood easily rubbed away. Bill lifted his sweater and loose white shirt, observing the yellow tone of the bruises on his torso that years of observing humans told him should still be a deep purple color. The throb was a distant and faint pain when he touched the skin.

Pleased with his current state, Bill stood, looking around the cage. His drawings were still there, only slightly scattered by his movements in the night, Mabel's twelve crayons all still in their box and in neat order. When he'd first received them he hadn't been at all surprised to find that there was no particular order to the colorful cylinders inside, so the first thing he'd done with them was reorganize them by their color before sticking them in the box. A quick check confirmed that they were still all in the neat order that he'd left them in yesterday, the yellow crayon humorously used down quite a bit more than the others, but that was to be expected.

Bill grabbed his drawings and re-stacked them into a single neat pile, placing them in the corner of the cage and setting the box of crayons down on top of them. He next picked up his empty water bottle and sandwich bag from yesterday, stuffing the bag into the empty bottle. He was about to put it in his pocket to be thrown away at a later time when he noticed a trash can near the entrance of the room, roughly ten feet away from his cage.

He looked down at the stuffed bottle in his hand, up at the trash can, and back down at the bottle again.

' _Could I?'_ He wondered. Surely he couldn't, but the urge to try was overpowering. Besides, how would he ever know of he could if he never tried? He was still good at math, but this human body was so new to him, and he was hardly used to moving around in this form. _'Worst case scenario, I miss and have to embarrassingly pick it up later when someone comes to get me, or someone else gets it for me.'_ The embarrassment was actually a rather strong deterrent, but not as strong as the burning curiosity that Bill Cipher was naturally prone to.

Tossing it up and catching it a few times to get a good sense of the weight, Bill stood and walked to the edge of his cage nearest the trash can. He tossed it a couple more times to ensure he had a good feel for it, watching as it spun top-over-bottom before landing back in his hand each time. He held it steady, aiming, lining the bottle up with his left eye, rearing back his left arm a bit before letting it fly.

Within a moment, there was a satisfying "swoosh" sound as the bottle flew, and not even a second later there was a sound of rustling plastic and a "clang" as the bottle hit its mark, bouncing lightly off the wall and straight into the small trash can.

Bill blinked a few times, startled, before letting out a whoop, fist-bumping the air as he'd seen so many times before. He honestly didn't know if it was pure luck, instinct, mathematical calculations, or his magic kicking in, but any which way, he was ecstatic that he'd made the basket.

"Nice shot."

All happiness fled from Bill in the span of a lightning strike and he jerked so quickly around and back that his head spun and his back slammed against the bars behind him with a loud clatter. He had turned so quickly that he could just distinguish the sight of Ford wincing at his reaction before regaining his composure.

"Relax Bill, I'm not here to hurt you…. At the moment…." Ford said to the heavily panting and rigid form before him. He stepped forward, Bill sinking back further into the bars of his cage in an attempt to stay as far away from him as possible. Ford walked over to the cage door and pulled the key out of his pocket.

He eyed Bill. "Why so tense Cipher? You weren't this bad last night," Ford commented, appearing nonchalant but secretly eying him intently from behind the rim of his glasses.

It took Bill a moment to realize he'd been asked a question, and since he wasn't entirely sure that it was rhetorical he thought he'd best respond.

"You…. Startled me," he said, forcing himself to try and relax a little, but not being very successful. He didn't want to say he was _scared_ , but that's exactly what he was…. He didn't even want to _think_ about how long Ford had been standing there for! Was this what it was like for people, discovering he'd been watching them intently for months on end?

Ford eyed him for a moment longer before unlocking the cage and opening the door wide, stepping aside and gesturing for Bill to exit. Bill hesitantly stepped forward and past Ford, ducking his head a little to hide the fact that he was carefully watching Ford's every move, looking for any sign of malice.

Ford purposefully kept his expression neutral, noting that in his presence, when Dipper and Mabel weren't around, Bill was much more like his darker and more distrustful self. He was likely always like this on the inside, watching intently and paranoid, only putting on a good show for the kids, Mabel in particular. Anger flashed across Ford's face for a fraction of a second as he thought about Bill Cipher tricking his young and innocent Great Niece.

Bill instantly winced and jerked away, immediately picking up on the brief anger that crossed Ford's eyes because he'd been studying his expression so intently. Bill picked up his pace in his approach to the stairs, hoping to end this "alone time" with Ford as quickly as possible. He was greatly relieved when Ford didn't reach out and pull him back, or punish him for trying to walk off and avoid his wrath.

Bill slowed at the top of the stairs to ensure that Ford could still see him, only continuing into the hallway once Ford was at least half way up the stairs. Bill waited in the hallway for Ford to catch up to him and let him lead the way to the kitchen, following a few paces behind him. Ford stopped at the pantry and opened a cabinet.

"Mabel rather, _enthusiastically,_ told me that not feeding you wasn't an option," Ford said as he slammed the wooden cabinet door closed, Bill trying his hardest not to jump at the loud startling noise. "I'd like to remind you that if you ever disobey orders or break any of the rules, not eating will be one of the lesser punishments I use on you." Bill nodded morosely as he struggled to catch the granola bar that was thrown his way, barely managing to catch it after fumbling with it for a few moments.

Bill pocketed the bar and followed Ford back out of the kitchen and to the front shop. Mabel was manning the cash register, looking completely bored as only a small handful of customers perused the shop, a couple of people leaving empty-handed.

"Come again soon!" Mabel called out to them in an attempt to reel them back in, but they ignored her and proceeded out the door. She sighed heavily and leaned on her hands.

Dipper was counting merchandise on the shelves, taking notes on a clip board and keeping track of every purchase made and how it affected the numbers, re-stocking the shelves whenever necessary.

Stanley was there too, just having finished a tour, a group of site-seers coming from behind him and wandering the gift shop.

"Stanley," Ford said, approaching his twin brother, Bill following closely behind, uncomfortable with all of the strangers wandering around nearby.

"What's on your mind?" Stan asked, glancing at Bill before looking back to his brother.

"I figure that as long as Bill is unfortunately here, he can help you man the shop during the day. Maybe just have him stick near the kids, try to keep him from touching too much." Stan nodded.

"True, true. As long as he's here, he might as well _try_ to earn his keep." Stan fully faced Bill now. "Go help Mabel man the register for now." Bill nodded absentmindedly, carefully glancing at Ford before approaching Mabel, leaving the two elder men to talk.

"Hey Bill," Mabel said with a complete lack of her usual luster and enthusiasm.

"Bored I see," Bill responded.

Mabel laughed a little. "You still talk funny."

"You mean because my voice is high?" Mabel shook her head.

"Nah, that's normal for a kid. What's weird is the _way_ you talk. You say _'splendid'_ and _'I see'_ and other crazy old-people stuff. Like a British guy, almost!"

Bill frowned. "Oh…. I can try to-"

"No!" Mabel said suddenly. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that! It's cute, even if it's weird, and it definitely screams ' _Bill'_. Like how my sweaters scream 'Mabel'," she said, gesturing to her own neon green article of clothing, "or how that annoying clicky-thing my brother does with his pen when he's thinking says 'Dipper'." She gestured to Pine Tree, who was indeed clicking his pen at a rapid pace, lost in thought as he re-counted a shelve of Stan bobble-heads.

Bill nodded. "I…. Think I understand…. Maybe….Just a tad bit." Mabel giggled.

"Hey guys," approached a somewhat new yet certainly familiar voice. Bill turned and saw none other than the gerbilesque handyman Soos nearing them. "Oh my gosh, is this him?" Soos asked, his mouth opening wide and eyes going large in what was clearly a "so cute" face. "Wow, he's like, totes adorable! You weren't kidding Mabel, I could just stuff him full of cotton and keep him like a stuffed animal!" At this point, Bill looked horrified.

Mabel grabbed Bill by the arm. "Well, you can't have him Soos! He's mine!" Mabel and Soos laughed, Bill wearing an overly confused and somewhat terrified expression on his face. Dipper huffed in the background and got back to work.

A customer walked up with an item they intended to purchase. Mabel paused the conversation and rung the item up.

"That'll be five dollars and eighty-two cents please!" Mabel said. The tourist-guy handed her six dollars, Bill watching quietly and shyly from the background. Mabel put it in the cash register and handed him back two quarters. "Thanks for your business!" She said a bit too loudly as the customer exited the gift shop.

"You know Shooting Star," Bill pitched in, "that wasn't the proper amount of change you handed him back. You just lost thirty-two cents in revenue." Mabel laughed again.

"Like, I understand the words coming out of your mouth, but I also don't," Mabel said, and Bill could swear she looked almost cross-eyed for a moment.

"It's no use," Dipper said from his spot near a shelf. "She doesn't care, and as soon as summer starts Mabel throws all of her book smarts out the window. Even during the school year, she barely pays enough attention to pass her core classes," Dipper said. "That's why Grunkle Stan has me doing the more important math-related stuff, like counting the merchandise and calculating how much of each item we need to order to re-stock the shelves with later on."

Bill nodded. "I see." Bill didn't feel like being too helpful at the moment, so he didn't mention to Dipper that he was still _amazing_ enough mentally to be able to count every item on a shelf in a single glance. The Axolotl had been very thorough with the human body: It was advanced enough to keep up with most of his usual higher-functioning thoughts, but without magic he was limited to observing only that which he could directly see through his own two eyes, and the chemicals! The chemicals this body produced and subsequent emotions were somewhat unbearable! In his own body, emotions other than rage had been so dull it was usually like they weren't even there…. The happiness was almost entirely or wholly faked.

Bill looked away from Dipper and back to Question Mark, who was still staring at him with wide sparkling eyes, leaning in far too closely and invading his personal space. Bill shifted uncomfortably away and Soos finally understood his cue, straightening and looking away.

"Well, I guess I better get back to work," Soos said. "It's been nice talking to you little dude," Soos said, ruffling his hair thoroughly before going outside. Bill frowned and began to pat his hair down, trying to give it some form of neatness.

"Haha, that's not going to work," Mabel said honestly. "It's okay though, your messy hair is adorable too."

"It was rather straight the first day I came here…." Bill said, still frowning slightly, not noticing that it came off as a pout that had Mabel simply gushing.

"That's okay. It'll probably flatten a bit after being washed. I'll make sure you get the chance to take a shower tonight."

Dipper groaned. "Does that mean he'll be using our shower tonight?"

"Yup!" Mabel responded cheerfully.

"Ugh, fine." The look on Dipper's face was completely serious as he pointed his pen in Bill's direction. "Don't touch my shampoo."

Bill smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it, Pine Tree."

The next hour or so went by rather uneventfully, with most customers walking out empty-handed. Bill hummed as he munched on his breakfast bar.

"Is it always this boring?" Bill asked.

"Pretty much. Wendy tends to make it more fun though, and it's always better when more customers stop by and buy things," Mabel said.

Bill hummed again in thought.

"Say, Shooting Star, is it alright to lie to the customers?" Bill hadn't noticed Stan walking up behind them.

"Of course it is!" Stan said, making Bill jump. "S'long as it doesn't hurt anyone and the customers buy more and not less, knock yourself out!" A sly grin spread across Bill's face.

"Oh no," Dipper said. "Grunkle Stan, what did you _do?_ "

"Don't worry Pine Tree," Bill assured, "like he said, as long as I don't hurt anyone…. Now, watch a master at work." Bill chose an easy target to be his first victim…. Ehem, customer, he meant customer…. A woman who looked to be about thirty, the perfect age of female to respond enthusiastically to his current form. Now for the approach….

Bill picked up a price tag from in front of a rather pricey object, the tag reading "$80" on it, and switched it with one reading "$20" on a nearby shelf; a shelf that was near his target, and that just so happened to have teady bears on it. Next he non-conspicuously knocked one of the stuffed bears down, making it land near his target's feet.

"Excuse me Miss!" He said, picking it up. "You drop-ed this!" He said, giving himself a bit of a childish accent.

"Oh," the woman said, "I didn't…." She looked down at Bill, who was wearing the biggest, brightest smile he could manage, holding the stuffed animal out to her. She found it extremely difficult to say no. "Thank you," she said slowly instead.

"It's an adorable bear!" Bill said, posing a bit with his hands behind his back and one foot touching only its toes on the floor. He loosened his pants a little with out the woman noticing to make the over-sized clothes stand out a bit more. "I wish my daddy would get me one! He doesn't like to buy me things though," he said, growing quieter near the end.

"Oh?" The woman asked, taking in for the first time his over-sized clothing and, _God, did the child not even have shoes?_ "W-why doesn't he buy you things?"

"He doesn't like me very much," Bill said quietly. "He thinks it's my fault mommy died…."

Dipper could swear his mouth hit the floor.

The woman's eyes teared up a bit. She clutched the bear more tightly.

"Would…. Would you like it if I bought you one?" She asked timidly. Her heart instantly swelled at the bright teary-eyed smile she received in response.

"Would you, really?!" He asked. She glanced at the price tag on the shelf of teady bears…. _'$80?! What a rip off!'…._ But one look at the expectant, hopeful and downright breathtaking smile on the child before her's face had her convinced.

Stan lightly shoved Mabel to the side as the woman approached the cash register, the stuffed bear in one hand and Bill's hand in the other. "I'd like to buy this bear please!" She said, letting go of Bill's hand and pulling out four twenty dollar bills.

Stan accepted the money, the woman handed Bill the bear, and Bill smiled brightly as the woman waved back at him from the door. As soon as she was out he scoffed and tossed the bear back on its shelf, switching the price tag back to where it belonged.

Stan laughed, but Dipper and Mabel both looked far less than pleased.

"That was great!" Stan said, clapping Bill on the shoulder.

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel began, but was cut short by more of Stan's laughter.

"If you do that once an hour, you'll be rich by sundown!" Stan said. Bill resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I wasn't really planning on running scams all day. Just feeling a bit bored," Bill said. "Besides, that was such an easy one, I could really do so much better."

"Well _don't_!" Mabel objected loudly, looking furious. "Grunkle Stan, we're supposed to be teaching Bill the difference between right and wrong! Not encouraging him to scam people!" Stan chuckled.

"Look sweetie, there ain't nothing wrong with helping me make some extra cash, is there?" Mabel shook her head.

"No, it's not okay! It's, it's…. It's punishable!" Bill smirked, but a slightly worried look overcame him despite the grin. Surely she wasn't serious, right? Stanley had said it was fine…. And if she did punish him, what would she do? Give him time out? That could hardly be worse than being in a cage all day like he had been yesterday….

Mabel sighed. "I hate to do this," she said, and Bill had to stop himself from saying "then don't"…. "but you leave me no other choice! Put your hand on the counter, Bill." He did as was asked, still slightly smirking but obviously nervous.

"What are you-" He was cut short by a sharp _"slap"_ sound as Mabel brought the end of a ruler down across the back of his hand. He yelped and yanked his hand back, clutching it to his chest for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but upon seeing the stern and hurt look on Mabel's face stopped.

' _She looks like it hurt her just as much to do that to me as it did for me to be on the receiving end,'_ Bill thought to himself. _'How odd.'_ Before he could stop himself he found himself saying "alright, I deserved that." Mabel looked surprised by his words, but the tears that had been welling up in her eyes instantly began to dry.

"W-well, good then…." She said, sounding somewhat unsure of herself. "Is your hand okay?" She asked. She'd had an extra mean teacher do that to her once when she was in seventh grade; Bill was considerably younger than that, and she hoped it didn't leave any lasting damage.

"Perfectly fine, Shooting Star," he said, letting her know that there were no hard feelings.

"Well, good," she repeated and then turned to Stanley. "And you!" She said, waving her ruler at him. "Don't tell him such bad things! Okay?" She asked, looking him dead in the eye.

Stan sighed. "Okay, alright, fine. No more using Bill's con-man skills, got it," Stan said, crossing his arms and pointedly looking away, appearing to be feeling rather dejected.

Mabel nodded. "Good. Actually, great! That went better than I thought it would," she said.

"Perhaps," Bill said, "if I'm not allowed to con my living, you could let me assure you're counting the right amount of change for the customers?" Stan nodded.

"Great idea. Make sure he doesn't take anything," Stan said to Mabel.

"What use would I have with money? Where would I even spend it? Here at the gift shop? I can't exactly go anywhere," Bill rambled a little.

"Oh, that reminds me," Stan said, pulling out his wallet. "Normally I'd hate having to do this, but he did just make eighty bucks, so it's not so bad now." Stan pulled out sixty dollars and handed it to Dipper. "You, Mabel and short-stuff here," Bill frowned, "take the golf cart and drive into town. Get him a pair of shoes and clothes that actually fit him, yeah?" Dipper nodded, taking the money. "Business has been slow today, it being Sunday, so you can go on ahead and do it now. I'll manage the Shack with Soos while you're gone."

Mabel cheered. "Yay! We get to go shopping!" Dipper and Bill moaned simultaneously as they followed the over-enthusiastic Mabel out the door.


	11. Chapter 10: Going Into Town

**Chapter 10: Going Into Town**

Dipper started up the golf cart with the keys Grunkle Stan had given him, Bill sitting rigidly, sandwiched between the twins on the cart's seat.

"You sure this is safe?"

"Yes," Dipper responded for the fifth time.

"It seems so dangerous…."

"You fly everywhere you go at like a bazillion miles an hour…." Mabel commented.

" _Through_ things. I can phase _through_ things, and I can see everything that'll happen before it does when I do that! And mostly I teleport!"

"We'll be fine," Dipper assured.

"If humans were supposed to move fast they would have been made with…."

"Bill," Dipper interjected, " _shut up!_ " Of course, Bill felt obligated to comply. He still didn't look happy though.

Dipper sighed, thankful for the silence, and began to creep forward. Bill instantly latched onto his right arm, hating the feeling of being so disconnected with the ground while moving and _not_ being able to predict the future.

Dipper smirked, a sudden thought coming to him. He went extra slow, Mabel sending him a grateful smirk as Bill finally began to relax.

' _Sorry Mabel,'_ Dipper thought. _'There's no way I'm passing up this opportunity!'_ Without warning, Dipper slammed on the gas, pushing the pedal down all the way.

The cart lurched forward, the tires kicking up dirt and rocks from the road, Bill gripping tighter and burrowing his face into Dipper's side with a small startled yelp. Dipper smirked at his distraught state. _'Is he really this pathetic?'_

Mabel glared at her brother. "Dipper, stop it!" She said, but Dipper ignored her, feeling Bill's grip get tighter by the second, and it was hilarious.

"What's the matter Bill? Can't handle the speed of a _golf cart_?" He taunted.

To be fair, the golf cart was decently fast: It had proven as much when he and Mabel had out-sped that giant monster comprised of Gnomes, but Bill's reaction was still outlandish and absurd.

Dipper grinned and began to zigzag down the dirt road, skidding this-way and that, laughing.

" _Dipper!_ " Mabel yelled, also not enjoying it as much as she normally would.

Dipper had every intention to continue until they got to the store, but his plans were interrupted by the sudden sound of a sob.

' _Crying?'_ Dipper wondered.

Dipper looked first to Mabel, quickly noting the _very pissed off_ but not tear-stricken look on her face. Once he'd confirmed that it wasn't his sister crying he looked down at the form next to him.

Bill was gripping the material of Dipper's jacket so tightly that his knuckles were purely white, and his entire body trembled, as tense as a rubber band about to snap.

Almost instinctually Dipper let off on the gas, because who wanted to be the cause of someone crying? Much less someone who looked so small….

The cart slowly decelerated to a crawl, and Dipper gently pressed the brakes until they were completely still. Within the blink of an eye Mabel had reached over and grabbed Bill, pulling him away from Dipper and holding him close. His fingers quickly took hold in the soft material of her sweater.

Dipper opened his mouth a few times as if to say something, to say anything really, but he ultimately remained silent. What would he say anyway? Should he apologize? Pick on him for how far he'd fallen? Just laugh? Should he try to comfort him? Dipper just didn't know, but the absolutely murderous stare Mabel was sending him seemed to imply that he should do _something_ ….

Bill beat him to it.

"I know," Bill said quietly, trying desperately to quell his tears. "Logically I know how stupid this is, but…. But I just _can't help it_." He said the last part so quietly that Dipper had to strain to hear it, and the words sounded more like feeble squeaks than human speech.

Dipper knew what it was like to have his own body turn against him. His voice still cracked, and…. And he loved Wendy, no matter how much he thought about the fact that logically he shouldn't, and he knew that she was way too old for him, but he…. Just couldn't help it….

If Dipper didn't know what to say before, now he was at a complete loss for words, so instead he let his foot off the break pedal and slowly started them forward, never taking them faster than a crawl the whole rest of the way to the store….

….

By the time they reached the store, Bill had managed to stop crying and had rubbed his eyes about fifty-thousand times, trying to rid himself of all signs of tears. His eyes still looked red though, especially since the rubbing tended to make that worse.

Dipper graciously, or perhaps in his own interest, pretended not to notice and turned the cart off. Mabel let go as soon as Bill went to move away from her, not wanting to be too pushy or clingy.

In the small town of Gravity Falls there was only one place people could get clothes. The town had a number of small shops, each one specialized and with little-to-no competition. There was a single grocery store, a single gas station, one library, one crafts store that sold paints and uncut cloth (the same place Mabel bought her yarn), a hardware store with axes and hammers and nails, and a single clothing store. If you wanted an article of clothing that the store didn't have, your only options were to drive to another town, to order it online, or to buy the materials from the craft store and make the clothes yourself….

It was into the store so uniquely named "Gravity Falls Clothes" that Dipper, Mabel and Bill were currently entering.

The store owner was at the cash register, looking for all intents and purposes dead on his feet. The man was at least eighty years old, looked to be a hundred, and lacked all sense of youth. He was often found sleeping while standing up behind the cash register…. People avoided him at all costs, other than when they needed to check out, because of how slow he tended to move.

Bill was about to say hello, and considered asking the man why he was just staring off into space when Dipper and Mabel both shook their heads frantically.

"Trust me, you don't want to talk to him," Mabel whispered. "I made that mistake once. Even _I_ couldn't handle all of his stories about how his kids went to college on _agriculture scholarships_. Like, yikes. ***** "

' _Is that how all humans end? Alone, old, boring, slow, with no one wanting to talk to them? The poor old bastards! How horrible! They call_ _ **me**_ _evil, but_ _ **kids**_ _these days….'_ Bill looked conflicted, but was silent all the same and followed the twins towards the back of the store.

"I'm sure you can find something yourself," Dipper said, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms, no doubt trying to look "cool" as he waited impatiently. Mabel rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, you _could_ do that," she said, "OR, you could let _me_ do it!" Bill bit his lip, conflicted.

"Don't do it," Dipper advised him, but despite his better judgment, Bill turned to Mabel and nodded.

"Alright, I just have one condition."

"What is it?" Mabel asked, already looking at the clothes around them. She picked up a tie-dye rainbow shirt off a rack.

"Yellow," Bill said, and Mabel frowned and put the rainbow shirt back. "If not yellow then gold, or black, or white. Perhaps the occasional silver." Dipper laughed.

"Trying to look like your usual self?" Dipper asked. Bill huffed.

"I'll have you know that I could be any color or shape in the world if I wanted to. Even my gender is not technically defined! I could appear to you as a turquoise octagon if I preferred, but yellow is my favorite color, and being a yellow triangle both makes me happy and feels most natural, mostly because yellow triangles relate so well to the nature of why I was created." Bill almost groaned when Dipper pulled out the Journal.

"What were you created for?" Dipper asked, having perked up instantly, leaning forward intently.

' _Now I've certainly caught his attention,'_ Bill thought to himself, uncomfortable with the intense stare Dipper was leveling him with.

Bill stared back. "Shouldn't that be obvious?" Dipper waited.

"I'm destruction."

Dipper blinked a few times before beginning to write. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Bill nodded. "And who created you?"

Bill smirked. "You know, I'm not actually sure. I might have just naturally come out of the Universe itself, formed like a star would. Or maybe something more powerful made me. I really couldn't say. All I know is that I wasn't always around. I was created in another dimension than your own, which I of course ultimately destroyed. Too boring for my tastes, though I did fit in rather well, if you know what I mean."

Dipper shook his head. "Not a damn clue." He sighed, and Bill made no attempt to explain further. Dipper waited, expecting more.

"I don't think you'd understand even if I explained it to you for a hundred years Pine Tree. The least I can say is that everyone looked more or less like me, but that barely scratches the surface of it. Of course, they still didn't have the kind of power I have..." Dipper nodded, his face twisted with indecision. For a moment he pictured a flat planet with various two-dimensional colorful shapes hobbling around on it…. Well, that would certainly be _boring,_ like a child's TV show, but Dipper doubted very much that his imagination was accurately predicting what an entire other dimension could look like.

"Alright, fine, fine. I'm too human to understand, whatever. What about…." Dipper was going to ask more, but Mabel interrupted them, her arms overflowing with clothing. "Mabel, that's way more than sixty dollars worth of clothes!" Dipper groaned. "Did you grab everything black and yellow in the entire store?!"

Mabel laughed before deadpanning out: "Yes, yes I did." Bill chuckled. "Bill, you have to try them on! And we need to decide which ones to take!" Mabel said cheerfully.

Bill walked over to her, picking out a horizontally black-and-yellow striped button-up shirt. "Definitely not this," Bill said, setting it on a rack. "I want to look like my usual self, not a bumble bee."

Mabel nodded. "Yeah, that's probably for the best." She dropped the pile of clothes on the floor and began to hang back up any striped shirts.

"Mabel, you can't just drop it all on the floor…." Dipper complained, but he didn't push the subject any further when Mabel didn't respond. She did what she liked, no matter what he said, and as long as all the clothes they wouldn't buy ended up back on racks it didn't really matter.

Dipper continued to stand in the corner and write in the Journal as Bill and Mabel began working at the pile, taking out any clothes that were too big or small for Bill to wear and hanging them back on racks as well. In the end they settled on three pairs of black slacks, a yellow button-up shirt and black t-shirt to go with it, and vise-versa a black button-up shirt with a yellow t-shirt to go underneath. Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Couldn't you have just settled for t-shirts?" Dipper asked, following them over to the shoes. "It's weird for a kid your age to be dressed so…. _Formally._ Especially in a small lumber town like Gravity Falls!"

To Dipper's great surprise, Bill stuck his tongue out at him.

"What? I've always wanted to be able to do that, I've never exactly had a tongue before." Dipper and Mabel began to chuckle, then laugh, and within a minute they were rolling on the floor in giddy delight. Bill looked flustered, his cheeks turning slightly red with embarrassment as he pretended not to notice them, instead picking out a pair of black dress shoes and some black and white converse from their shelves.

Dipper finally managed to get himself under control. "You know, at first I thought that you should definitely have been given an older body, one that was like thirty, or maybe even older, to match how formal and devious you are," Dipper said, standing up off the floor. "But now, after knowing your interest in shapes and colors and seeing how childish you can be, I'm starting to think that maybe this body is perfect for you." Bill turned to him, a seething remark on his lips, but hesitated when he saw the sincere and only slightly teasing look in Dipper's eyes. He sighed.

"I have my own theories about why this body is so young," he said. Dipper raised an eyebrow.

"Care to share?"

Bill seemed to contemplate this. "You could just demand I tell you," Bill reminded him.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah, I _could,_ but I'm _not."_ The look on Dipper's face was nothing short of smug. Bill laughed.

"Alright, fine, since you're being so polite about it I'll humor you. For starters, I do believe that it was The Axolotl that had complete control over my form. That was, after all, what our agreement entailed."

"You never exactly said what The Axolotl is," Dipper interrupted. Bill seemed to take this under consideration.

"The Axolotl is like me, but opposite. It has immense power, but where I was destined for destruction, fire and nightmares," Bill motioned to himself, "The Axolotl is a being of water, healing and creation. That's part of the reason it offered me a chance at redemption in the first place; The Axolotl is good-natured, and I simply know it'd be _thrilled_ if I 'switched sides'. In fact, if you wanted to know how we were brought into being, or how I was created, The Axolotl may be the only one in existence who can answer that question." Bill waved his hand as if to brush the topic aside. "That's not really what we were talking about right now though. We were talking about why I'm in such a young form: I think The Axolotl created this body for me, which it can of course do as a being of creation, specifically to best serve its plans for my redemption. This body is young, so I'll have more time as a human…. Assuming I don't just die of old age when the body does…." Bill's features darkened, as if he hadn't considered it before.

' _If I don't get my powers back and fulfill The Axolotl's plans for me, even if I don't do anything bad the entire time I'm here, will I still die when this body becomes old? Can I even truly die, or would I simply…. Cease to exist?'_ Bill shuddered and shook his head to rid himself of the thought.

"As I was saying," he said, setting himself back on track. Dipper was scribbling words quickly into the Journal. "The Axolotl wanted me to spend a decent amount of time in this body, for one. This would also mean going through a lot of human development stages."

"It probably also didn't want to give me a form capable of fighting back; a form as weak as this one is the only way to guarantee I'm not too much of a threat to you and your family. On top of that, if the body had been much older I may have been self-sufficient; this way I _had_ to go to you and your family for help. An eight year old can't exactly open a bank account or get a job, and if I'd been a teenager I would have considered an orphanage or gang involvement." Dipper nodded for him to continue, Mabel listening from her spot on the floor, not bothering to interrupt their conversation about "weird nerd stuff". Dipper would be mad if she did that.

"Most importantly, I think, The Axolotl probably thought that such a young body comes with a young mind, which is more susceptible to change and outside influence. Besides that, it's very emotional, something I'm sure you've already noticed. No matter how much _I_ don't want to feel things, the chemicals in this body and the way it functions force me to feel a lot more emotions than I normally would."

"But if your…. Triangle, body, thing…. Isn't capable of feeling these emotions," Dipper pointed his pen at Bill, "then when you drop this body and go back to your natural form, won't you just go right back to being the dream demon of destruction who doesn't feel anything?" Bill frowned.

"I've considered that."

"….And….?" Dipper prompted.

"It's possible." Mabel frowned.

"Wait, wait, wait!" She said, flailing her arms in the air. "Are you telling me that it's possible that despite everything we're doing to help you change, it might all reset to square one as soon as you return to your other form?" She asked.

Bill sighed. "I…. I don't have all the answers at this time," he told Mabel, "but I guess I'm just…. Going to have to trust The Axolotl…."

"You don't sound too sure," Dipper pointed out.

"Of course I'm not sure!" Bill raised his voice a little. "Isn't that kind of the point though? Besides, if I was sure of everything, don't you think I would have done whatever was necessary to get my powers back already? I know what's going on just about as much as you do now. I can't exactly see the future, okay?" Bill looked displeased about even having to admit to not knowing something.

Dipper put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Alright, okay, fine. As long as we're all caught up now. I'll fill in Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan when we get back to the Mystery Shack." Bill had expected as much. "Speaking of which, you've got shoes, socks, a couple of outfits. Are we done here?" Dipper asked.

Bill nodded. "I suppose there aren't any hats in a place like this." Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Just the ones like what Dipper's got on," Mabel said, gesturing to the brown fuzzy thing on Dipper's head, "and maybe a few baseball caps. Nothing like your top hat, Bill." Bill nodded.

"I'd expected as much. By the way, what did happen to your usual hat, Pine Tree? I've been meaning to ask."

"Wendy has it," Dipper said, a bit of a blush touching his cheeks with color. "I'll get it back when she comes into town next week. This is her hat," he pointed to the cloth on his head.

"Wendy? That red-headed cashier girl you dream about? The Ice Queen on my Zodiac?" Bill asked. Dipper blushed harder.

"I-I do NOT dream about her still, just so you know!" Dipper rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

"I wouldn't know kid, I can't invade your dreams anymore, remember? All I know is that you used to think about her an _awful lot._ " Dipper half-growled half-moaned in frustration, a strange and hilarious sound. Bill chortled.

"It's funny when you call us kids," Mabel said, finally standing up off the floor and picking up the items they intended to buy. "Even as a triangle guy you don't look like an old person, and besides you only Grunkle Stan and other old people call us that. Well, sometimes Dipper's friends would do it too to tease him." Dipper elbowed her to shut her up. She only laughed.

"Well, I may not look it, but I am old. You know that. Besides, even your Grunkle Stanley and Six-Fingers are nothing more than quick blips on the radar in comparison to how long I've lived. The only thing that makes you guys more memorable is what you've done in life in relation to my plans. If not for that, I'd never even remember you lot. I forget most humans I come in contact with quickly since they don't live very long at all."

In all of that, only one thing registered in Mabel's mind. "Are you saying you won't forget us?" Bill looked surprised.

"Well, I just- I mean, of course I won't forget the only people to ever defeat me, even if you are just quick blips in the long time span that is supposed to be my life." Mabel smiled, shoved the burden of the clothes over to Dipper, and tackled Bill, hugging him quickly around the neck and planting a soft kiss on his cheek before stepping back.

"HEY! Ew, gross! What was that for?!" Bill asked, rubbing the spot where she'd kissed him with the back of his hand. Dipper began to giggle madly and had to cover his laughter in the clothes. Mabel observed Bill, one finger tapping her chin, a contemplating look on her face.

"Yup, we're getting that!" Mabel said cheerfully. Bill, confused, reached up and felt the top of his head.

"A BOW?!" He asked somewhat furiously and immediately began scrambling to get the plush black and gold item off his head.

"It's ADORABLE!" Mabel said, and Dipper could no longer suppress his laughter. Bill was still fumbling with the metal clip, not at all knowing how it worked and completely unable to see it, hurting his hair as he yanked at it.

"We're NOT getting it!"

Ten minutes later they were checking out, purchasing two t-shirts, two button-up shirts, three pairs of black pants, two pairs of shoes, a bag of socks…. And a gold and black hair bow.

"It's nice that everything's so cheap in small towns," Dipper said, "we've still got three bucks left."

Mabel ignored him, not caring one bit about money, instead playing with Bill's hair as they walked toward the golf cart, pinning the golden locks up in the clip of the bow. Dipper started up the cart and began their extra slow drive back to the Mystery Shack.

"I'm not going to wear it."

For Mabel, on occasion, he does.

 ***If anyone's wondering, my inspiration for this store owner was a substitute I had in Chemistry once. He talked for the** _ **entire**_ **hour, about his kids and wife and what cars he used to have and his son's** _ **agriculture scholarships….**_ **And no, he wasn't talking to the entire class, it was just us two, locked in a super drawn out, one-sided conversation. O.o**

 **He was nice enough though, I guess…. I have deep reservoirs of patience. =.=**

 **Does it make me a bad person, being so bored while listening to this poor old dude's life story and then putting him in my fanfiction….? At least I remember him…. o.o**


	12. Chapter 11: Ants?

**Chapter 11: Ants?**

When they got back to the Mystery Shack it was almost noon. Mabel took Bill upstairs to change into proper clothes and to take a shower while Dipper talked to his Grunkle Stan.

Mabel handed Bill some clean pants and the yellow button-up shirt. "You can take a shower while I find a drawer here in the attic to keep your stuff in. Shouldn't be too hard, I'll just have to throw away some of Grunkle Stan's old junk! I'll also put your other clothes from yesterday to wash," Mabel said. Bill nodded and they set to their individual jobs.

It took Bill nearly thirty minutes, longer than he'd expected, to shower properly. There was a lot of grime, sweat and blood he'd managed to collect over the last day and a half. His hair, such a light color and so easily soiled, took especially long to get back to its usual golden glow. By the time he'd exited the bathroom Mabel had cleared out a cabinet outside hers and Dipper's room there in the attic and had wiped away the dust from inside it. Bill sighed as he came out, still toweling his hair, noticing the way his clothes had been unceremoniously dumped into a still open drawer. He walked over and folded the clothes before shutting the cabinet.

Mabel rolled her eyes. "What's it matter if you just throw them in?" She asked.

"I can't be seen walking around in wrinkled clothes," Bill said. "I may be a creature of disorder and destruction, but I like to keep myself clean and tidy when possible."

Mabel nodded. "Yeah, I guess you were always a snazzy dresser with your little cane and bowtie and top-hat! In retrospect it was pretty cute." Bill eyed her with a small frown (pout) on his face.

"What, it wasn't cute at the time?" Mabel giggled.

"Well, you know, you were kind of trying to kill us at the time!" She said, her smile faltering a little.

Bill looked taken aback. "I was not!" He said somewhat furiously. Mabel looked confused.

"W-what?"

Bill huffed. "Shooting Star if I'd wanted to kill you, you would be undoubtedly dead right now." Mabel looked confused.

"Are you saying you aren't a bad guy?" She asked skeptically, frowning and wondering if this was a trick.

Bill blushed a little with shame, cursing his body for being so full of various emotions. "No, no, I'm certainly not claiming _that,"_ he said. "I'm just saying that I didn't want you guys dead. I mean, I was using you, of course."

"But we were on the Zodiac designed to kill you," she said. "Why didn't you kill Dipper when you destroyed the Journals? You had everything you wanted by then, or at least you thought you did. You hadn't known about the bubble trapping you in Gravity Falls yet." Bill didn't meet her gaze.

"Do I have to answer that question?" Bill asked, trusting that Mabel wouldn't be as strict with the rules as Stanford, and that she wouldn't punish him for questioning her.

The smile returned to her face. "Okay, Mister Bad Triangle Guy, you don't have to try and answer. We'll all find out sooner or later if you're even capable of being good." Bill nodded. "We should go down and help Dipper in the shop. I'm sure he's gonna be mad that we left him to work alone for so long."

Bill followed her downstairs, finding Dipper waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up from the Journal.

"Grunkle Stan said we could go out and play. He and Soos have the shop handled." Mabel high-fived her brother.

"Yes! We have to show Bill around! Show him all the cool stuff we've found in the forest!" Bill and Dipper both laughed. "What? What is it?"

"Shooting Star, I not only bared witness to everything you did last summer, but I also was present and helping Ford the entire time he wrote the Second Journal and for sections of the First and Third. Even without all of that, I know absolutely _everything_ there is to know about Gravity Falls, excluding anything that's changed since I was here last summer." Mabel frowned.

"Oh…. Yeah, all-seeing Bill, right…." Bill's smile faltered, and for some reason he was unsettled by her disappointment.

He quickly added: "How about I show _you_ guys something?" He stepped up to the front door, swinging it open to reveal the yard and trees beyond. "I know a bunch of cool things you haven't seen yet, if you want me to show you." Mabel's eyes widened, a huge grin breaking out across her face. She stepped forward to exit the Shack but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm all for finding out more about the weirdness in this town, but a personal tour from Bill Cipher? Sounds too good to be true, not to mention dangerous!" Dipper said. Bill frowned a little. "What's the catch?"

"I'm as bored as you are," Bill said, "plus I don't mind showing off a little." His grin came back and he winked. "I gotta keep up that whole all-knowing gig, right?"

Dipper narrowed his eyes, still highly distrustful of the demon. Bill sighed.

"Tell you what, I won't even take you into the forest. I'll show you something right here in you front lawn!"

Dipper looed bewildered and, beyond all else, curious. The drive of the mystery was staring to weigh on him. He inched towards the open door.

"In our own yard?" Dipper wondered. "And Grunkle Ford doesn't know about it?" Bill smirked.

"Likely not. It's very easy to miss, unless you're specifically looking for it.

Mabel laughed. "That doesn't sound like it'd be very exciting," she commented.

"Just because it's hard to spot doesn't mean it can't be fascinating. Besides, I wouldn't want to introduce you to something overly dangerous."

"You mean you don't want to be held responsible if we get hurt," Dipper translated.

"….Maybe."

"We can handle it!" Mabel said. "We've fought dinosaurs and Gnomes and not least of all you." She poked him in the side.

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'd still like to play it safe, at least in the beginning," Bill said. Dipper nodded in agreement.

"We don't know if we can trust you yet either, so yeah, that's probably for the best." He motioned to the open door. "Lead the way then." Bill smirked and sauntered out the door, Dipper and Mabel following closely behind him. He appeared to inspect the yard, walking the perimeter a bit.

"What are you looking for?" Mabel asked.

"I know there's got to be one somewhere…. There!" He smiled and walked up to a nearby ant hill.

"An ant hill?" Dipper asked. "I hate to break it to you Bill, but ants aren't exactly supernatural." Bill shook his head.

"These aren't regular ants. In fact, no ants in Gravity Falls tend to be average. Most all of them are like this; if they were ever released into the outside world I have no doubt they would quickly kill off all other ant species. It's a good thing for your planet's ecosystems that these ants are trapped here by the same weirdness magnetism that kept me from escaping during Weirdmageddon."

Dipper did jazz hands. "Ooh, amazing! Ants that can kill other ants!" He said sarcastically.

"Their hills also go down and out much further than normal ants, sometimes for miles…."

"Boring," Dipper said, eying Bill with a displeased look on his face. "Compared to everything else we've see, how can giant ant farms compare?"

On the inside, Dipper _was_ a bit fascinated. He knew he was giving Bill a hard time, but he deserved it, and if Bill got offended and wanted to show off his best bits of knowledge, Dipper knew they'd get to see something really mysterious…. Bill wasn't the only one capable of a bit of manipulation.

Bill sighed. "So impatient…." He reached forward and scooped up a handful of ants.

"What the, what are you-?" Dipper didn't get to finish as Bill threw the ants at the ground with a quick motion.

Colorful bursts of smoke erupted in tiny wisps and crackling rang out, like firecrackers on the Forth of July but much, much quieter.

"Woah!" Mabel exclaimed.

"O-okay, that's pretty cool…."

"They explode when you _kill them_?!" Mabel asked. Bill laughed and shook his head.

"Oh, no! On the contraire! They don't _die,_ they _teleport_." Dipper's mouth dropped open and he yanked out his Journal.

"They _teleport?!_ " He asked ecstatically.

' _Now I've got his attention,'_ Bill thought, pleased with himself.

" _How_ do they teleport _?_ Just think of all the uses that could have, if we found out how they did it and could recreate it on a bigger scale!" Bill shook his head.

"The laws of magic, like gravity, really do apply differently to different sized beings. A flea can jump seven feet, but a human can't even hope to leap onto a building. Even if a flea was enlarged it wouldn't be able to jump nearly as high. Teleporting is much, _much_ easier with smaller creatures. Of course, if you had enough _power_ you could teleport. I had enough power to teleport everyone in Gravity Falls a hundred miles away if I'd wanted to, back before…. Well, this," Bill gestured down at his body. "I was a being of pure energy. For a human to even dream of achieving that much raw power is laughable. Give it a few million years perhaps. What these ants do you won't be able to recreate." Dipper frowned but nodded, taking more notes in the Journal. He bent down and began to sketch some of the ants.

"So where do they go?" Mabel asked.

"That would be to their Queen. For these ants, the Queen not only controls them with her pheromones and gives birth to them, but her scent is also a beacon for the ants to follow when they teleport, and they all share a somewhat psychic connection to her that guides them." Mabel smiled.

"Wow! It'd be super neat to be the Queen ant then!" Bill smiled.

"Yes, I suppose s-" Bill stopped mid-sentence, noticing Dipper reach forward to touch some of the nearby ants. "Don't do that!" He yelled, smacking Dipper's hand away.

Dipper yelped, not from pain but primarily because he was startled, and fell back. "What? What was that for?!"

Bill shook his head. "If you care to notice, some of the ants there are five or so times larger than the others. Those are the defensive ants; they only emerge from deep in the hill when damage has been done to it. There's very few of them, but they're much more dangerous." Dipper's eyes widened.

"So they _are_ dangerous?" Dipper asked.

"Well…. I've never seen anyone _die_ from them, if that's what you mean. Their venom often has different effects on various people. The worst case I've ever heard of was a young boy who got a rash all over his body for five minutes. The longest I've ever seen it last was an hour, and that time the victim only suffered a minor headache. There haven't been a lot of cases where someone was bit by a defender ant though. They hardly come to the surface." Dipper nodded, looking down at the ants scurrying about, trying to repair their home.

"So…. Chances are the effects wouldn't last long?" Dipper asked.

"It's different for everyone," Bill repeated. Dipper nodded.

"So what about the Queen?" Mabel asked. "Where does she live? Is she nearby?" Bill laughed.

"Oh, no, she's very far under, and they have multiple larger spaces for her, spread out in various locations. No doubt they've already moved her to the one furthest from here. You'll likely never see her. Most creatures in these woods know to avoid the ant piles, out of respect for them more than anything, I imagine. Only humans sometimes effect their home, so they tend to keep away from town. Most ants you see in town will be from an average, run-of-the-mill species."

Mabel nodded. "Does she ever come outside, above ground?"

Bill was going to respond, but was distracted by a sharp hiss of pain behind him. He whipped his head around so quickly that it hurt his neck.

He stared first at the finger Dipper was clutching that had a slightly red tint to it, then at Dipper himself, who was smirking slightly.

"You didn't…." Bill gave him his best 'what are you stupid?' look.

Dipper grinned and shrugged. "Research purposes. It won't last long, right? Can't possibly be that bad." Bill had a displeased look on his face.

"I'm going to get in trouble for this…." Dipper waved him off, rolling his eyes as he stood.

"Nah, whatever happens will fade by the time we get inside," Dipper said. Bill stood from his place kneeling in the grass as well. "Grunkle Ford will be so distracted by this new discovery that he won't even look at you, other than to ask more bout them," Dipper pointed at the ants. "So when will the effects kick in?" Bill was still frowning deeply.

"I really couldn't tell-" Dipper toppled over, fainting on the ground "-you…."

Mabel looked a little nervous too now. "Should I go get Grunkle Ford?"

Bill considered the options before him. He slowly shook his head. "….No…. I think this is a rather severe reaction, fainting" Bill shook Dipper's shoulder "and going apparently quiet thoroughly unconscious. As such, it shouldn't last too long…. I think…." Mabel looked concerned but didn't move towards the Shack, instead sitting down next to where Bill had taken to kneeling at Dipper's side.

A few minutes went by that felt like an eternity…. Nothing.

After several more minutes passed, Dipper began to _wheeze._

" _Now_ should I get Grunkle Ford?"

"Yes, most definitely."

Mabel stood and ran to the Shack, screaming out as she went "Grunkle Stan! GRUNKLE FORD!" Bill considered following her, but decided that leaving Dipper lying here alone would be a horrible course of action.

' _I'm certainly getting punished for this,'_ Bill thought hopelessly, a pained and slightly panicked expression crossing his face. He shook Dipper's shoulder again, trying to wake him up. _'I'm currently not being supervised, rule number two, and even worse, Dipper is passed out on the ground. Ford will_ _ **most** __**certainly**_ _think I did this.'_ Dipper's breathing was becoming even more restricted so Bill stopped shaking him, resigning himself to his fate.

Within a minute Mabel, Stanley and Stanford were sprinting towards him. Bill schooled his expression as best as he could, trying to hide his fear and panic, and stood, stepping away from Dipper's side to allow access to the elder men.

Stan and Ford were kneeling at Dipper's side instantly. They checked his breathing, hindered but strong enough, and his pulse, still steady but fast. Satisfied with the inspection, Ford nodded and Stan lifted Dipper, carrying him inside, Mabel hot on his heels.

Ford turned to Bill. " _What happened?_ " He asked coldly.

Bill settled his gaze into what he hoped was a blank, indifferent expression, forcing himself not to squirm under Ford's intense stare.

"These ants," Bill pointed, "are another one of those Gravity Falls phenomenon. They effect everyone differently, but not usually for very long and often not severely. Pin- Dipper must be more allergic than most." Ford looked positively livid, tense through every muscle, but he didn't move towards the demon.

"Follow me," he said instead, marching toward the Shack. Bill didn't hesitate in complying.

Ford marched into the Mystery Shack, Bill glancing into the living room where Stan had laid Dipper down on the couch. Ford continued downstairs and Bill hastily pursued him.

Ford opened his cage and Bill stepped in without hesitation. The cage door was slammed shut and Ford turned away, marching back up the stairs.

Bill remained motionless where he stood.


	13. Chapter 12: Dead

**Chapter 12: Dead**

 **A/N: Warning for violence.**

Ford raced back upstairs, marching to his Great Nephew's side.

"What got him?" Stan asked his twin quietly, trying not to disturb Mabel as she knelt at her brother's side.

"Something paranormal," Ford responded. "Bill…." Ford sighed. "It doesn't matter right now. We need to monitor him," Ford said, jerking his head at the boy on the couch.

Dipper was still unconscious, and remained that way even when attempts were made at arousing him. "How long has it been since he was bit?"

Mabel looked up at her Grunkle. "I don't know exactly. Maybe about ten minutes?" She squeezed Dipper's hand. "What do we do?"

Ford sighed and stepped closer to the boy on the couch, feeling his neck for a pulse. He set his fingers against his forehead. "He's developed a high fever already. This needs to blow over quickly, if it keeps going at this rate…." Ford looked down at Mabel. "Could you go get a cloth for your brother's forehead, Sweetheart? You and Stanley need to keep his temperature down as much as possible."

"What are you going to do?" Stan asked.

"I'm going to ask the know-it-all downstairs if there's a cure."

"And what if he lies?" Mabel asked. "He told me and Dipper that the ants were safe! And then he said they were dangerous, but not very, and now Dipper is…." Mabel had tears streaming down her face. Stan knelt down beside her, pulling her into a hug.

"It's alright Pumpkin," Stan said comfortingly.

"I'll make sure he isn't lying," Ford assured her before turning to go downstairs. Mabel looked up at her Grunkle Stan and nodded, both of them rising and beginning to tend to the ill teen.

….

Bill could hear Ford's footfalls on the stairs not five minutes after he'd been left in his cage. He still stood in it, in exactly the same place he'd been when Ford had exited the room. He didn't appear to have moved an inch.

Bill turned his head slightly to the left as Ford entered the room, peering back at the old man through a veil of golden strands. He waited for Ford to speak first.

"The cure," Ford said, "what is it?" Bill frowned.

"I don't know."

Ford scowled, his hands clenched into fists. He repeated himself, _"What is it?"_

Bill half-turned towards him. "It's never been necessary for a cure to be either searched for or created. As far as I know, and you know I've been watching for quiet a long time, Dipper is the _only_ person to ever be effected like…. _This._ " Ford stormed forward and quickly unlocked the cage, yanking the door open. Bill resisted the urge to shrink back, it wouldn't do him any good. He remained motionless where he was in his cage. The only reaction he gave to Ford's close proximity and anger was a violent trembling he couldn't suppress running up and down his spine.

"If you don't tell me now, I'll force it out of you," Ford warned.

"That's exactly my point." Angry confusion crossed Stanford's face. "Why would I withhold this information from you? If I knew of a cure, you'd be the first to know. I'd strike up a deal." Ford could see the truth in those words. "I certainly wouldn't wait until you beat it out of me. I'd use it to my advantage."

With an angry growl, Ford slammed the cage door shut and marched back upstairs. He wouldn't be getting any help from Bill; either he truly didn't have knowledge of an antidote, or he would never divulge it and was for some reason very intent on hurting Dipper. Whichever be the case, Ford doubted his time was best spent trying to force it out of the Dream Demon.

Ford watched as Mabel and Stan tended to Dipper as best they knew how. Mabel was running a damp cloth across Dipper's forehead while Stanley emerged from behind the vending machine, carrying with him a black bag. He held it out.

"I thought you might want your medical supplies," he said to his twin, handing the bag over to Ford. He nodded and accepted it.

Ford walked back over to Dipper, who was having a lot of difficulty breathing now. Mabel stared at him with teary eyes.

"Grunkle Ford, what do we do?" She asked. Ford shook his head.

"I- I don't…." He paused. "I would say we should take him to the hospital, but the one we have here in town is so small it'd be no better than here, it's really more of a clinic than anything. It'd be an hour drive at least to a decently sized town…." Ford sighed and pulled out a mask from his bag, positioning it on Dipper's face. "The oxygen tank please, Stanley." Stan nodded and rushed out of the room, returning not even a minute later with a green metal tank three feet long and a foot in diameter. Ford hooked up a tube between the mask and tank and opened the nozzle, letting pure Oxygen fill the mask. Dipper's breath fogged on the plastic with every huff of breath, condensation quickly forming.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Mabel said in an unsteady voice. "We thought it would only last a few minutes…. Do you think Bill knew?" Mabel asked.

"He probably did," Stan responded truthfully. "Something like this…. It's real hard to believe it was just a coincidence, Dipper being so allergic." Ford nodded his agreement.

"I'll deal with him later," Ford said. "For now we have to-"

" _Dipper!"_ Ford was cut off by Mabel's sharp exclamation and a sob that soon followed. On the plastic mask covering Dipper's face, there was no continual fogging on the clear material that symbolized a release of breath.

Dipper wasn't breathing.

Like lightning Ford's fingers were pressed to the teen's throat. He was just in time to feel two final frantic heartbeats before the pulse went still.

"Stan, the AED!" Stanley immediately reached for the black medical bag, pulling out the requested device and setting it up while Ford lifted Dipper off the couch and set him on the floor.

"Mabel, Honey, go to the other room," Stan instructed, but Mabel refused.

"No, I'm not leaving him!" She knelt down next to Dipper on the living room floor, opposite her Grunkles. "And you can't leave me, Dipper!" Neither Stan nor Ford had the time or heart to force her away.

Ford pulled a knife from his inner coat pocket and sliced down the front of Dipper's shirt, exposing his chest. He took the on and ready AED from Stanley, made the rest of the preparations, and turned up the flow of the oxygen tank to force air into the boy's lungs.

"Let go Mabel," he said, Mabel dropping Dipper's hand as Ford pressed the portable defibrillator to his Great Nephew's chest. There was a buzzing sound, and the body on the floor jerked, but there was otherwise no movement. Ford felt for a pulse: Nothing.

Stan had pulled Mabel into his arms, keeping her back while she sobbed. "Please, Dipper, _don't leave me_ …."

Dipper's words from the night before came back to her: _"_ _as soon as you start to trust him, he'll stab you in the back. Or heck, even if he really is trying to change, he can still screw up, make a mistake and you end up dead as a consequence."_ Mabel had listened, but she hasn't _really_ listened. Dipper had tried to warn her that Bill was dangerous! And because of her, Dipper had played nice and relaxed around Bill, and now her brother was dying! It was supposed to be her. She was supposed to be the one to get hurt for trusting Bill, not Dipper….

' _Please Dipper…..'_ She begged internally.

Ford increased the output on the AED and tried again. He felt for a pulse; there was still no fluttering heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

Seconds crawled by like days, soon blurring into minutes that felt like years, but still all too soon, Ford stopped trying. His hands stilled after his latest attempt at resurrection. The room was silent, the air stagnant.

"No," Mabel whispered. "No, don't stop! Keep going! Don't give up!" She struggled in her Great Uncle's grasp. Ford shook his head and numbly switched the AED off; it powered down with a quiet whirr.

"It's no use," Ford said quietly. "It's been too long. It won't do any good."

Forty minutes had gone by since Dipper was first bitten, thirty-nine since he'd passed out in the front yard, ten since his heart had stopped beating, and only a few moments ago, the Pines family had accepted the fact that Dipper Pines was dead.

Mabel came numbly to her brother's side, Stan letting his arms fall limply to his sides as she went. She knelt next to him, clutched his body to hers, and began to sob.

Ford didn't look up. He didn't dare peer at the still body, fresh enough to have a touch of color to the skin, looking as if it were still alive. Instead he stood and silently exited the room, walking slowly towards the stairs. He descended to the basement.

Bill was still standing upright in his cage, in the exact same position he'd been left in, but as Ford came into view and a pitiful, painful, wailing cry broke out above, he turned to stare wide-eyed at the old man, a question burning on his lips.

Ford leveled him a blank look, tears pooling in his stare. Bill peered back, frozen by the expression on Ford's face.

"Dipper is dead," Stanford said. Bill still didn't move, glued to the spot by shock and disbelief.

' _Pine Tree is…. But….'_ Bill barely had a moment to try and process that, much less to feel anything about it, before the next moment came slamming into both of them, carrying with it the next logical line of reasoning. _'If Dipper is dead, then I'm next.'_ Bill did the only thing he could: he tried to reason; he stalled for time.

"I didn't know this would happen," he said, "I swear-"

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT CRAP!" Ford yelled, silencing Bill. Upstairs Mabel lifted her head a little, wondering if she should be doing something to stop her Grunkle Ford, but with one look at her brother's body she was back to sobbing on the living room floor.

Bill bit his lip nervously, but persisted. "I didn't know he'd react like this," Bill insisted.

"Of course you did, you know EVERYTHING Bill! You're OMNIPOTENT!" Ford screamed. Bill flinched, but furiously shook his head.

"No, I'm not! I can't see the future even in my usual form! Like this I can't even see what goes on outside this room!" Ford shook his head.

"You knew this would happen…."

"I didn't, and I told him not to touch them…."

"You knew. You always know. You manipulated him, made him curious, told him they weren't overly dangerous; you _knew_ he would ignore you and touch them and that then you could feign innocence."

"No."

"Dipper is dead…." Ford repeated, his eyes now burning with furious sorrow. "….and so are you."

Ford shoved his key into the lock, Bill jerking back into the cage bars behind him. The cage door was yanked open.

' _What should I do?'_ Bill wondered hastily. Should he try to run? Defend himself? Attack the enraged, grieving man before him? Beg?

If the best option was to try and flee, Bill didn't come to that conclusion in time. In no time at all, Ford was seizing him by the arm, tossing him against the floor outside the cage and swiftly kicking.

Bill curled in on himself at first, but after several kicks he lashed out, fighting back, trying to stand up but being repeatedly shoved back down. He kicked at Ford's legs, frantically trying to crawl away, to stand and run, to do _anything_ but let this happen. If this was the punishment he deserved, he wasn't ready to accept it; he wasn't ready to die. Over a _trillion_ years of life, yet he was only now beginning to appreciate it, to want it, because it was only within the last few days that he'd learnt what it was truly like to fear death.

Bill had never really thought too much about what it would be like to die. He was supposed to be immortal, but like his omnipotence, that wasn't really a guarantee. Just because he _hadn't_ died yet didn't mean he _couldn't._ Would he go to Hell, if such a place even existed? He'd lived in a nightmare realm, surely if Hell existed it wouldn't be so bad, he'd probably fit right in. That wouldn't be horrible….

But what if he simply ceased to exist? Worst yet, would he still be conscious, lost in infinite nothingness with nothing to do or be for all eternity, an immortal soul with nothing left, no sight touch or influence?

He didn't know, and that terrified him. Unlike most things, he also didn't want to find out the answers to these questions. He struggled harder.

With an angry determined growl, Ford was on top of him. Bill struggled, but the man was so much larger, and stronger. Ford held him down, grabbing his hands and throwing them outward, pinning them to the floor.

Suddenly thick fingers wrapped around a thin throat. Bill stared up, gasping, horrified, pleading golden orbs gazing up at cold hard browns, tears still streaming slowly and steadily from the old man's eyes. Just as Dipper had died without breath, Ford would ensure that Bill received the same.

He squeezed, and Bill couldn't breathe.


	14. Chapter 13: Wait

**Chapter 13: Wait**

 **A/N: Long, long note….. Hahah, just kidding. Enjoy! Why are you still reading this note** **when there's such entertaining text right below it?!**

 **Warnings for violence, one case of mildly bad language, and sort-of child abuse (it depends on whether you consider Bill to be a child or not).**

 _Previously:_

 _Thick fingers wrapped around a thin throat. Bill stared up, gasping, horrified, pleading golden orbs gazing up_ _at cold hard browns, tears still streaming slowly and steadily from the old man's eyes. Just as Dipper had died without breath, Ford would ensure that Bill received the same._

 _He squeezed, and Bill couldn't breathe._

He instinctually lifted his hands and clawed at the strangling hold; Ford's response was to squeeze tighter in anger, so tightly that Bill was coughing and a deep soreness and panic overtook him. He scrambled to reach anything nearby to help him, coming up empty before going back to scratching desperately at Ford's hands.

It wasn't half a minute of being strangled before Bill's small lungs were burning and he became lightheaded.

' _Struggling isn't helping,'_ he forced himself to think clearly. He did the only other thing he could do; he gave in.

Through copious amounts of willpower he forced his hands to lay out at his sides and tried to make himself relax: Fighting and flailing about would only use up his oxygen supply more quickly. Without fighting, there was only one option left before him, one tool he could use to try and save himself.

Bill peered up into Ford's eyes. Ford could tell exactly what Bill was thinking in the large golden orbs; Bill's eyes were searching desperately for the mercy that Mabel had shown him before, were pleading, begging for his life to be spared. Beyond all else he looked terrorized, more fearful than he had been the morning before, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Bill remained motionless, and his eyes said " _you have control; don't do this,"_ though he lacked the breath to speak actual words.

For a moment the tension on Bill's throat lessened, not enough to breathe but enough for blood to flow to his head a little and for the urge to cough to return. Just as Bill was wondering if maybe he'd make it out of this alive, the hold on his neck tightened again. Bill's hands twitched at his sides, wanting desperately to claw away at the large hands, a grimace of pain forming on his face. Ford shook his head.

"You deserve this," Ford said, Bill forcing his eyes back up to him, tears blurring his vision. Having the life strangled out of you _hurts._

Ford shook his head. "You don't deserve mercy, or a third chance. A second chance was one chance too many as it is, and now my Great Nephew is dead because of you!" Bill didn't speak, not for lack of words but for lack of air. His vision was beginning to haze at the edges, going dark in places while stars danced in his eyesight. His eyes began to drift closed, Ford brought him back to full awareness with a sharp slap. Bill refocused his gaze back onto the old man, his vision still fuzzy and fading fast. His body was shaking, every muscle trembling with the strain of asphyxiation.

"If I'd killed you yesterday morning, none of this would have happened. I'm not making the same mistake twice."

….

Mabel sobbed into her brother's chest, holding him close. Her Grunkle Stan had a hand on her shoulder and was lightly kissing her hair, using it to cover the tears that streaked down his own wrinkly face. Mabel clutched her brother tighter, as if she could hold his soul in.

" _Don't leave me_ ," she sobbed a quiet, broken plea.

"… _..….Mabel?"_

….

His lungs were _on fire._ His head was throbbing, and he couldn't stop his right hand from scratching terribly weakly at Ford's strong grasp. Soon his hand fell limply to the floor near his head. Even if he'd wanted to, he no longer had the strength or control to move a finger, much less fight back and try to lessen the hold Ford had on his throat.

….

"What's wrong?" Mabel peered up at her brother as he slowly rose into a sitting position. "Man, my head is _killing_ me…. Mabel?" She still hadn't responded. Without warning, she threw herself at her brother, wrapping her arms around his neck and wailing against him, great crocodile tears streaming down her face. Dipper hugged her back. "Mabes…."

"You were dead," Stan said quietly. Dipper looked up at him, his eyes wide. For the first time he noticed the red puffy eyes of his Grunkle Stan watching him so intently. Stan too leant forward, pulling his Great Niece and Nephew into a bear hug.

Mabel finally found her words. "Bill, he lied and said it wouldn't last but it did! You died and, and, and I thought I'd lost you!" She cried again as Dipper stroked her hair.

"About that, the ants, Bill said they were psychic but apparently they can read the minds of people too, and they decide what effect their venom has on people. They used the venom to allow me to take over one of the ant's bodies. I was actually talking to the Queen and she said I needed to get back…." Mabel pulled back and punched her brother in the arm. "Ow~! What was that for?!" Mabel looked furious.

"You were off having a paranormal adventure with _ants_ and left us here thinking you were _dead?!"_ Dipper flinched.

"I didn't know leaving a body without a soul for too long could result in death, or the illusion if it! Besides, the Queen made sure to send me back before I actually died." Mabel's tears didn't slow.

"But you did die! Your heart stopped-stopped beating and everything!" She said furiously.

Dipper shrugged and pulled his twin in for another hug. "The ants are magic, and very, very old. I'm sure they knew exactly what they were doing. They're really benevolent and powerful, but unlike most everything else here, they're really strict about not getting involved in any conflicts. They could tell that I was curious and they sort of just invited me to look around a bit. I didn't know I was scaring you guys so badly. I'm sorry." Mabel's sobs quieted to little sniffles and she nodded.

"Okay, fine…. You jerk." She laughed lightly and Dipper smiled. Mabel's eyes widened a bit. "Oh yeah! We should tell Grunkle Ford you're okay! He still thinks you're dead! He's downstairs with-"

Dipper, Mabel and Stan all shared a look, eyes widening in realization. "Crap," Stanley said eloquently as the children in their youth were able to stand up from the floor immediately and begin sprinting down the stairs.

"GRUNKLE FORD!" They both called at the same time, Dipper entering the basement ahead of his sister.

Ford was straddling Bill's lithe frame, his hands placed firmly against Bill's small neck. Ford was looking at Bill intently, his eyes hard and angry with tears still leaking from the corners. Bill was almost completely still, his chest jerking a bit as if his lungs were still trying to force air in but were completely unable to, his eyes rolled back into his head to reveal nothing but white and the bottom most edges of dim golden rings.

"Wait, Grunkle Ford, stop!" Dipper exclaimed. His Grunkle jerked his head upward, staring in disbelief. Dipper didn't stop running, crossing the short distance between the entrance to the room and his Grunkle. Even as Ford stared wide-eyed up at the previously assumed dead boy running towards him, his mind couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. Bill's chest stopped heaving and Dipper knew he had to get his Grunkle Ford off of him _now._ He took the course of action he thought would lead to his Grunkle letting go of Bill's throat the quickest, tackling him from the side and pulling him off of the smaller body.

They tumbled to the side in a heap, both quickly getting up. They faced each other from where they where kneelt on the ground, Ford's eyes wide and searching up and down Dipper, taking all of him in, forcing himself to truly process how very _not dead_ his Great Nephew appeared to be.

"Dipper?" He asked, thinking it too good to be true. Any possible responses were halted by a sudden hacking sound, the quiet air of the basement resonating with coughs and sputters.

Bill clutched at his throat as if still trying to pry away suffocating hands, the deep pain and bruising left behind still giving off the illusion of being strangled. His lungs and abdomen heaved heavily as he sucked in air greedily, his oxygen-deprived mind riddled with a fear that his very breath may be stolen away from him again.

"Dipper, he, he tried to kill you," Ford said, but Dipper shook his head.

"He didn't, it's okay, I was never in any danger. I'll explain it to you later." Ford looked very displeased, but with a deep half-sigh, half-groan, he rubbed his face, inconspicuously trying to scrub away tear stains. He looked at Bill, who had by now curled in on himself so tightly that you couldn't see his face from any direction. Quiet sniffling and still heavy gasps of breath were emerging from him, muffled by cloth and limbs as he pulled his knees up flush against his chest and he covered his head with his arms. Ford huffed.

"I still have half a mind to kill him," Ford said, his eyes not leaving Bill's trembling form. Mabel approached the curled-up body on the floor.

"It wasn't his fault," Dipper said. "And even if the ants _had_ killed me, which there was no chance of!" Dipper assured as Ford shot him a sidelong glance. "He told me not to touch them. I did it anyway because I was curious, and because, well…. I guess I believed him when he said it wouldn't kill me or leave me with any permanent damage. And he was right." Ford still looked displeased, but he nodded all the same.

"This isn't over though," he directed towards Bill. Ford stood and grabbed the edge of the cage door that still hung open. "Get up," he said loudly and forcefully. Bill didn't move and Ford frowned.

"Grunkle Ford," Mabel intervened as she knelt down at Bill's side, "maybe you should let me handle him for now…." Ford glanced up at his twin brother, who shrugged and nodded at Mabel, suggesting that he just do as their Great Niece asked. Ford hesitated, but ultimately decided that if he was going to punish Bill more, or kill him, he wouldn't do it in front if the children. He consented to Mabel, letting Bill's indiscretion slide, for now.

Bill was still curled in on himself; he was trying desperately to re-gather his thoughts, but his yet-to-be oxygen-satisfied mind wasn't running on all cylinders. No matter what he tried, all he could feel at the moment was panic, fear, and desperation flooding his every thought and sense. He barely had enough higher-functioning capabilities to curse his body for having such strong, overwhelming instincts and emotions. Then there was the pain; the pain alone drove most coherent thoughts from his head. His lungs ached and burned with every heaving breath, his sides stung from what would no doubt turn into nasty bruises, caused by the kicks and hits he'd received. More minor was the sting on his left cheek from when Stanford had slapped him so forcefully, and his arms and legs also had a soreness resulting from hard contacts of punches and jabs.

Worst of all was of course the pain at his throat. His neck through-and-through was sore. His throat was dry and heavy, the skin burning, and moving his neck even in the slightest sent shooting white-hot sparks of pain coursing up and down his spine.

Beyond just the physical pain, there was the emotional. Bill could barely think clearly enough to form the words ' _panic attack'_ in his consciousness. Panic, yes, that was precisely the right term.

"Bill?" He could hear Mabel call to him gently, but it was drowned out by the pounding in his ears of blood flowing to his head after being deprived for so long.

All over again he could feel his breath be taken away. Just when he'd thought he could manage to breathe, his lungs had begun to contract and expand too quickly for his own good.

' _Hyperventilating,'_ his mind provided another useless word he could neither fully comprehend nor do anything with at the moment.

"Bill, hey, Bill! Calm down!" Mabel grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to lean him back, but he jerked away from the contact violently, curling in on himself even tighter than he had been before, the contortion further restricting his lungs from expanding properly. Mabel looked up at her Grunkle Ford pleadingly, clearly scared and not knowing what to do.

Ford looked down at the hyperventilating body, but he didn't try to help. He knew how to assist when someone was having an attack, could recognize all the signs, but he wasn't about to try and help _Bill._ Not even with his Great Niece peering at him with such pleading eyes. He turned away; Bill would be fine. Any second now he'd pass out from hyperventilation and his breathing would slow to a sustainable rate.

Right on cue, Bill's body relaxed, uncurling slightly as he lost consciousness. Mabel grabbed at his arm and looked at his face.

"No, hey, Bill, Bill!" Dipper grabbed his sister by the shoulder lightly.

"Hey, it's okay," he told her, "he just passed out. See? He's fine." Dipper lifted his sister's hand and placed it against Bill's small chest, so that she could feel the quickly deepening and slowing rise and fall of his chest, signifying that his breathing was, in fact, evening out. Mabel sighed in relief.

Ford left the room when he was sure that Bill had passed out and would remain unconscious for some time. Stan watched him as he went, not saying a thing.

Mabel and Dipper assessed the damage, taking the opportunity presented by Bill's lack of consciousness. Dipper carefully felt his sides, noting which spots caused Bill the most discomfort. He wasn't nearly as skilled medically as Ford, but he didn't think there were any wounds that needed treatment. Some blood welled up from breaks in the badly bruised and swollen skin, but the flow was already slowing and the cuts closing, barely detectible in progress by the naked eye as Bill's dormant power worked to heal him.

Mabel couldn't prevent the tears that welled in her eyes as she looked over the damage. His face was so pale, his lips still holding a slight blue tinge instead of their usual soft pink. Even unconscious, he looked like he was in pain, especially whenever Dipper touched on a sore spot, and he looked scared. When she caught sight of the nasty purple bruises on his side, throat, arms, and legs, a sob broke through her resolve and she buried her face in her hands.

"Hey, hey," Stan said, leaning down and wrapping his arms around his Great Niece. "It's okay, he'll be fine." Mabel shook her head.

"I should've…. I should've stopped him! I should've protected Bill…. It wasn't his fault! Even if Dipper had died it wouldn't have been his fault!" Stan held tighter.

"No, honey, no. Y-you were upset, your brother…. You thought…. It's only natural that you wouldn't think about Bill at a time like that." Mabel still shook her head in furious denial of his words.

" _I'm_ the one who's supposed to protect him!"

"Says who?"

Mabel opened her eyes and looked up at her Grunkle Stan. "I promised myself that I would teach him about kindness. I promised _him,_ even if he didn't hear it."

"Bill Cipher isn't the kind of guy you owe any favors to, honey." Mabel was quiet, not knowing how to respond. Stan continued: "He may look like a kid, but he isn't. He's a _demon._ " Mabel looked down uneasily.

"I'm not sure it's that simple." Both Dipper and Stan looked at her, waiting for elaboration. "If everything he's said is true like it seems to be, then The Ax- The…. Whatever it is…. Sent him hear to learn, right? It thinks he can change?" Stan nodded minutely. "Then, Bill's looking for guidance, just like a kid would. But he needs someone to _help_ him. And I've told Dipper before, we don't really know what kind of life he's been leading up until now. We hardly know anything about him, and I know it's dangerous and that I might get hurt, but…. But I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. I _want_ to believe he can change, that he's maybe just a little good on the inside."

Dipper frowned. "Mabel, you _can't-"_

"I know!" Mabel interrupted. "I know I'm not supposed to trust him or care for him or get attached, but he looks so," she peered down at him again, "so weak, and defenseless, and lost, and after everything that's happened, I think he really is all of those things." Dipper was quiet and Stan sighed.

"Alright hon," Stan said, smiling down at her lightly. "If that's what you want, then I'm just gonna have to help you." Mabel looked up at he Grunkle.

"Really?" Stan nodded.

"If you're really dead-set on making _this_ ," he gestured down at Bill's still form, "work out than you're gonna need all the help you can get."

Mabel smiled and hugged her Grunkle around the neck. "Thank you Grunkle Stan!"

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Stan said, laughing lightly as Mabel puled away. "If I'm gonna help with this craziness, I might as well start now." Stan leant down at Bill's side, Dipper and Mabel standing and stepping back so he could gain access more easily. He lifted the light form and carried it to the cage, laying it on the floor and shutting the cage door with a soft " _clang,"_ pulling the key from where it had been left in the lock and setting it on a nearby tabletop.

"You," he pointed at Dipper, "for heaven's sake, go up stairs and sit down! You almost died today!" Dipper rolled his eyes, but there was no denying that he didn't look particularly healthy. He had bags under his eyes, and his complexion was certainly paler than usual.

"Yeah, alright, fine," Dipper consented, he Mabel and Stan all proceeding upstairs and to the living room, resting on the couch and watching some mind-numbing TV.

 **A/N:** **It's funny, I got sooo many people saying "Oh no, Bill!" I** **do a double take and go:** " **Wait, what? Bill?** _ **Bill?**_ **Didn't Dipper just, oh, I don't know, DIE?"** **Poor Dipper gets** **no sympathy…. It's okay though, I was all Bill feels on the inside too.**

 **Remember, reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, BYE!**


	15. Chapter 14: Sorry

**Chapter 14: Sorry**

 **A/N: Someone asked about my update schedule: I try to update daily, about 2,500 words per chapter. Sometimes I'll only be able to update every few days, but I'll hopefully never have to go a whole week without an update. I have a VERY busy life, so the only way I manage to write so much is by not sleeping and being addicted to writing. Haha.**

 **Thanks to all of my lovely reviewers, viewers, favorites, followers, etc.** **Here's a fluffy chapter before the next large and painful conflict begins. Enjoy!**

Bill woke up in the middle of the night. He would have greatly preferred to remain blissfully unaware of his pain and surroundings, but as soon as he was conscious, his injuries gripped him. The cage bars leered at him, and he was hopelessly aware that the man who had caused all of his recent pain was likely in the room just beyond his cage, a single door and wall separating him from Ford. Perhaps worst of all was the very influence that had woken him up….

' _It's freakin' freezing in here!'_ Bill had been blessed with a few days of warm whether, he hadn't yet had to sleep through a night where the air outside was _this cold,_ and in the underground concrete room, laying on the metal floor of his cage, the cold ripped through his thin frame like scissors through paper. Tears sprung to his eyes as he gripped his arms tightly across his chest, every movement sending pain through him. He shivered and his teeth chattered; he bit his tongue between his jaws to try and quiet the chattering, the last thing he wanted was for Ford to come beat him for waking him in the middle of the night. Bill certainly wouldn't put it past him.

What Bill didn't know was that at this exact moment, Mabel was being awoken by her own pet pig Waddles. The fleshy creature had hardly any warmth to it other than its fat and a little peach fuzz, so it had clambered up onto the bed with her. She had started awake, but quickly relaxed as she saw her cute pink pet. She could instantly feel the bite of the cold night air as her covers fell down from her shoulders.

"Cold, huh?" She asked her beloved pet quietly so as not to wake her brother, hugging it and pulling it under the covers with her. She cuddled it close to her chest, snuggling up under her thick blankets. For a reason she couldn't pin down, sleep eluded her for several minutes before she huffed in frustration and sat up.

She instantly crossed her arms to combat the chilly air. She sighed quietly. "Oh." _Now_ she knew what was bothering her!

Waddles oinked as Mabel crawled out of bed. "It's alright, I'll be back," she said.

"Mabel?" She turned and saw her twin sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes and also crossing his arms against the cold. He looked towards his alarm clock. "What are you doing? It's two in the morning…." He yawned as if to prove his point. Mabel walked to a closet and picked up a thick quilt from inside.

"I was just, you know…." She said quietly. "It, it's probably really cold in the basement." Dipper smiled at her and nodded, getting out of bed and grabbing another blanket.

"Better take two then, right?" Mabel smiled at him.

"Why are you being nice to him? I mean, I'm glad and all, but I kind of expected you to side with Ford…." Dipper rolled his eyes.

"C'mon Mabel, you should know by now that between you and Ford, it's still you. He may be my mentor, but you're my annoying twin sister." He smirked at her and she smiled back.

"You're avoiding the question." Dipper sighed.

"Okay, fine. I feel kinda bad. I mean, you guys thought I was _dead,_ and that's _horrible,_ but Bill almost died himself! And for what? Because I went and touched the ants after he'd warned me not to? I didn't take him seriously, but I should have, and seeing him have that panic attack after…. I just feel a bit responsible." Mabel bumped into him gently.

"He probably doesn't blame you. Granted, that's probably because he's too busy being terrified of our Grunkle, but still. You could always apologize to him." Dipper sent her a rather skeptical look.

"Okay, let's not get overzealous here. It's still _Bill,_ evil triangle of destruction! He's still an _enemy,_ " Dipper said, somewhat in warning to his sister.

"Yeah, but if you do apologize, tell him you'll listen to him more carefully in the future and admit that you were wrong, he might open up to you a little. And if you don't say anything at all he'll probably _never_ show us anything cool here in Gravity Falls ever again. If he thinks something like this will be a repeat occurrence, that we won't heed his warnings and that he'll get hurt as a consequence, he won't tell us about any more mysteries. As it is it'll probably be a while before he willingly divulges any info." Dipper stared at her with wide eyes, stopping at the top of the stairs leading down to the basement.

"You know Mabel, sometimes I forget how smart you are when it comes to interacting with other people," Dipper said quietly as they continued down the stairs.

"It's a gift," Mabel said flippantly, tossing her hair a little. Dipper tried not to laugh and risk waking one of their Grunkles. Old men could be _very cranky_ when they didn't get enough sleep.

Bill startled from his huddled position in his cage, instantly whining at the pain that jolting his neck caused. Who could possibly be coming down the stairs at this hour?! Bill could only think of Ford, retiring after long hours in the lab. He was the last person Bill wanted to see right now. He'd probably cry if he had to face the man alone in the dead of the night….

Bill sighed in relief as he spotted not one, but two figures coming down the stairs, both of them far too short to be Stanford. Bill's curiosity got the better of him and he held his head up, deciding not to pretend to be asleep. Besides, Pine Tree and Shooting Star could probably tell that he was awake, what with the shivering, tense position he was in and occasional chatter of his teeth. He couldn't, after all, force himself to bite down on his tongue until it bled. He was already bad enough about that with his lip.

Dipper and Mabel paused at the bottom of the stairs, noticing two very large, unnaturally bright eyes staring at them through the dark. Even in the barely lit room, Bill's eyes glowed a sparkly, unnatural gold, strikingly similar to that of a cat's eyes reflecting the smallest of lights in the night, or two little flames glowing on candle tips.

Mabel smiled and approached first, Dipper following closely behind her. "We-we thought you might be cold," Mabel said, dropping her quilt on the floor. "I can see we were right." Bill didn't respond, and didn't uncurl from his small shivering form in the corner of his cage. Mabel picked up the key and unlocked the cage door, thinking it would be too difficult to pass the thick covers through such closely spaced bars. Bill jumped at the unlocking of the cage, but otherwise didn't move, he only continued to watch with wide glowing eyes.

"Can you see well in here?" Dipper asked quietly, thinking it would be the absolute worst thing to wake Ford at the moment. "Can you see in the dark? Your eyes…. They're just so much like a cat's, and they glow…."

Bill stared for a moment. He'd prefer not to answer presently, but the boy had asked a question, and Bill felt bound by the terms of their agreement to comply. "I-I-I can, I g-guess. Not per-perfectly, but bet'er than a-a n-normal hu-uman." He couldn't prevent himself from stuttering as his teeth chattered loudly, shivers and slurred speech interrupting his words. Mabel frowned at his broken speech and quickly picked back up her quilt, kneeling in front of Bill and wrapping him in it. Bill literally sighed into the warmth.

Dipper took his cue, saving the information he'd just learnt for later copying into the Journal, stepping forward and laying his burden on the floor of the cage, giving Bill a space where he could now rest on thick bedding instead of the cold cage floor. With a little prompting from Mabel, Bill shakily moved onto the padded surface, wincing at every movement. Dipper frowned.

"Listen," Dipper began quietly, uncertainly, sitting on the floor just inside the cage, close to Bill so that he could be heard more clearly. "I…. I'm sorry about what happened. I really should have just listened to you. Yeah I got to go on a fun adventure, and just like you said, I wasn't in any danger of dying, but my family thought I was dead _,_ and you almost died. If it counts for anything, I promise I'll listen to you a bit more in the future. I'll be more careful, keep my curiosity in check and all that." Bill eyed him.

' _Don't think I can't see right through you, Pine Tree,'_ Bill thought to himself. _'You're just hoping that I'll show you more neat things in the future if you promise to take my warnings more seriously.'_ Bill sighed and nodded a little. _'If I refuse and tell him I'm not going to show him anything else, then later he may just decide to force me, to tell me what to do instead of ask. This way I can at least prolong the inevitable; I'm going to have to show them more eventually….'_ Bill only hoped that next time _he_ wouldn't be the one that had to pay the price. Curiosity is supposed to kill the cat, not the cat's plus one.

To Bill's great surprise, Dipper scooted closer, Mabel smiling and quickly doing the same. The twins, never strangers to close physical contact, came up close on either side of him and settled in on the covers, pulling the edges of the overflowing quilt up over themselves.

Bill was tense and nervous. What were they doing? Sleeping with the cage door wide open, in the midst of their greatest enemy? Well, to be fair, they weren't sleeping. Dipper remained thoroughly awake, but relaxed and comfortable. Bill doubted very much that Dipper would allow himself to fall asleep in Bill's presence, much less so with the cage open and Mabel there.

As the warmth of their bodies and the blankets seeped into his bones, Bill found himself unable to keep his eyes open. With his body working double-time to heal itself, he was already hopelessly exhausted. He soon found himself leaning with his head on Mabel's left shoulder.

"I'm sorry too," Mabel whispered quietly. "I shouldn't have let Grunkle Ford hurt you like that." Bill frowned.

"How is that your fault?" Of all the people in the world, Mabel was by far the kindest to him. He blamed her the least for his recent suffering.

"I just should have stopped him, whether or not Dipper was dead. I promise I won't let it happen again." Bill wasn't sure exactly what that promise meant. Did she mean she wouldn't let Ford try to kill him? If that was the case, it was a very comforting thought for him. Having Mabel as a barrier between himself and Ford was almost more than he could hope for. For his own sake, he hoped this was a promise Mabel would be able to keep.

Bill relaxed, and Mabel ran her fingers lightly over the quilt, tracing the swirling patterns that decorated it. As Bill drifted into a deeper sleep, he could almost swear he felt her fingers thumb softly through his golden strands of hair, an altogether soothing and not at all unpleasant motion that quickly sent him into a deep slumber. Who knew his young body could be lulled by such simple movements?

Bill slept soundly until the sunlight illuminated the basement. When he awoke, his cage door was closed, and Dipper and Mabel had gone.


	16. Chapter 15: Desensitized

**Chapter 15: Desensitize**

 **A/N: Warning for violence and sort-of child abuse.**

Bill soon discovered that Dipper and Mabel weren't the only ones capable of visiting him in the middle of the night and early hours of the morning.

Bill spent most of the day in his cage, trying to heal after the damage that had been done. Mabel brought down breakfast, a bowl of cereal and some apple juice, and Dipper ventured down for lunch, actually staying with him as they ate their hotdogs in silence, or more specifically Dipper ate his two and Bill attempted to finish the majority of one. He was far too thin as it was, and his body needed to consume extra energy, but Bill found that all too soon, every time he ate, he would get a full feeling and would be unable to eat any more. He'd already lost weight since he'd gotten here, and would likely only gain it back if he was ever able to go a substantial period of time without having to heal himself. After lunch Dipper took their dishes and Bill's bowl from that morning and left.

For dinner, Bill was actually collected from his cage and brought up to the living room. The Pines family had a tendency to eat dinner together while watching TV; Bill knew because he'd observed them doing it for various stretches of time in the past, back when he'd been able to peek in without being detected. As usual, Stanley sat on the recliner, front-and-center the television, and Mabel sat on his left armrest, Dipper perched on the right. As Bill followed the twins into the room and waited for them to take their seats, he couldn't help but notice Ford staring at him from his simple wooden chair near the recliner, Journal 3 open on his lap and a pen in his hand. He'd been tapping the pen on the page aimlessly, but had stopped as soon as Bill entered the room. If Bill had known what trouble a simple act like walking into the living room could bring, he would have stayed in his cage.

Ford watched intently as Bill entered the room. By the pale television screen's light, his usually pasty skin looked even whiter, and the bruises littering his body stood out all-the-more.

Bill's left cheek had a sharp, deep-purple bruise on it that stretched along his far-too-thin cheek bones. Where had the thick, chubby, childish cheeks from two days ago disappeared to? The childish roundness of his face was still there, certainly, but somehow his face also looked hollowed out, perhaps because of how sharp the edges of the bruise appeared to be, or because of the way Bill's eyes were sunken back into his skull a bit, dark circles stark against pale skin.

His arms revealed more bruising under where the sleeve of his black T-shirt ended, and Ford suspected that an examination of his torso and legs would reveal a number more deep swollen bruises and perhaps a few scrapes and split skin areas as well.

Worst of all was his throat. Ford wondered if Bill had noticed that everyone else in the room was thoroughly avoiding staring, trying to appear as normal as possible. In reality, the bruises on Bill's neck stood out more than any diamond necklace ever could.

' _It's completely solidly dark,'_ Ford thought to himself, _'as if someone- as if_ _ **I**_ _painted the entirety of it purple and blue.'_ The bruising was all-encompassing over the neck area, and whenever the TV flashed a particularly bright white, Ford could clearly make out the exact shape of fingers, the exact imprint of his hands on Bill's soft skin. On his cheek: A six-fingered mark so similar to the symbol on the front of his Journals. On his throat: Distinguishable fingers, six for each hand, wrapping around the front and towards the back. How easy it had been to wrap his hands entirely around the thin neck….

The worst part was, Ford felt _horrible._ Peering at the stark bruising, the clear evidence of his hands at work on the small body, it all made Ford feel like a monster worse than Bill Cipher himself.

' _It's ludicrous,'_ Ford thought to himself angrily. _'I MUST force myself to stop seeing him as a child! Even last night, when he'd stared up at me with such large, pleading eyes, I'd hesitated! I almost let him go! In the future that could cost not only me, but my family….'_ Ford decided then and there, as his Great Niece handed the demon a corndog, that he would have to rectify his view of the Dream Demon in his home quickly.

Bill ate, watching the TV intently, not because it interested him at all but because Ford was the only one who not only openly looked at his bruising, but who also _wouldn't look away_. Ford had stopped reading over Dipper's newest additions to Journal 3 and had instead watched Bill for the entirety of dinner and the two episodes of simple TV that followed. The hour of nine o'clock couldn't come soon enough for Bill Cipher as Mabel finally stood and stretched.

"C'mon Bill, it's nine and you need lots of sleep. Consider nine o'clock to be your bed time! That's when mom and dad made us go to bed when we were younger!" Mabel said enthusiastically, motioning back and forth between herself and her twin brother. Dipper nodded as if to confirm and Bill allowed Mabel to lead him downstairs, shutting him in his cage and saying a quick "goodnight" before switching off the lights.

Bill thought for a while about why Ford would watch him so _intensely_ during a simple dinner. When no reasons immediately presented themselves, Bill drifted off into unconsciousness.

It was nearly midnight, the younger twins were asleep in the attic, and Stanley had fallen asleep on his recliner, as usual, instead of in his own bed. Ford had also long since retired to his own bedroom in the basement.

Bill was sound asleep, plagued lightly by nightmares that he would later wonder if he was creating for himself. He was, after all, the Dream Demon, creator of nightmares, wasn't he?

In the dead of the night there was no sound but the muffled chirping of insects outside in the woods. Bill slowly came to consciousness as he heard a soft _"click"_ of metal on metal, the turning of gears as faint in the night as a heartbeat, and the unlatching of a metal lock. He was groggy, his brain still befuddled with the strain of healing. He wanted nothing but to go back to sleep, yet his mind was fighting this basic urge, clawing for consciousness. Bill didn't open his eyes, but unwillingly he listened as his brain tried to take notice of his surroundings.

There was a rustle of fabric, not from the quilts around him, a much scrappier and less soft material flapping slowly.

Bill was still trying to lazily piece together what he was hearing while trying to go back to sleep when his entire system was shocked into complete awareness. _Literally._

Electricity coursed through him, making him seize up and jerk. Within moments it stopped; he tried to scream, but a hand clamped down firmly over his mouth.

" _Not a sound,"_ Ford whispered to him. _"You'll wake the kids. Trust me, you don't want to do that."_ Right about now, waking up Pine Tree and Shooting Star sounded like exactly what he needed, but he understood that if he called them for help, woke them up and they intervened with whatever was going on, Ford would be far less than pleased. So as Ford drew his hand away he bit his lip hard, instantly puncturing it, only a small whimper escaping him.

"Good," Ford said before stepping back and jabbing him in the side with a black object. Electricity coursed through him again and Bill seized up, clamping his eyes closed tightly, every muscle on fire. After ten seconds it stopped, and Bill let out a quiet groan of pain and whimpered once more.

Ford looked down at Bill, watching as tears began to leak out of the corners of his eyes. Ford felt that all-too-familiar pain of hurting a child, and quickly jabbed Bill again with the taser.

' _This has to stop,'_ Ford thought to himself. _'As many times as it takes, I'll hurt him until I'm desensitized, until I don't feel this damn guilt over it!'_ He barely let Bill breathe for a second before jabbing him in the side again, his body tensing up and jerking. This time when he stopped Bill sobbed, and Ford kicked him in the side, where no one would be able to see the bruises.

" _Quiet you,"_ Ford whispered harshly, and Bill clamped down on his bottom lip again.

It went on like this for ten minutes until finally, Ford stood up taller, pocketed the taser, and glared down at the sniveling form.

" _Not a word of this to anyone,"_ Ford said. _"I'll be back tomorrow night."_

Bill passed out, and for the rest of the night, he dreamt of electric chairs and eels, of Ford's taser, and of hard, cold brown eyes.

….

Mabel awoke feeling fully rested and generally happy with life. She couldn't help but feel that, now that Bill had had a full day to heal, he'd be happier, and her brother was finally warming up to the demon too. Mabel sprung out of bed, Waddles instantly squeaking and standing as well, waddling after her as she sprang at Dipper's bed.

"Hey Dippy-Fresh!" She yelled in his ear. Dipper groaned loudly.

"Do _ **NOT**_ call me that." Mabel giggled.

"C'mon Dipper, wake uuuuuup!" Mabel shook his shoulder.

"Mabel, I know you're a morning person, and we're twins, but I'm very much a _stay-up-all-night-and-sleep-in-the-morning_ kind of person." Mabel rolled her eyes.

"You slept all night already now wake up!" Of course she knew that his sort-of-near-death experience was a factor to his sleepiness, but it was nine o'clock, plenty late enough even in the summer, so he should really be getting up now. Besides, she was excited to start the day.

Maybe, if they were lucky, they'd all get to do something interesting with Bill. Yeah it was kind of terrifying at first, having him in the house, but by now Mabel had seen enough times that he really was rather helpless, and he certainly kept things interesting! She loved the excitement of it, almost as much as Dipper enjoyed the mystery and new heights his information gathering could reach.

Dipper finally hauled himself out of bed, but only after Mabel dropped her not-so-little pig on him, making him huff and shove the creature off.

They changed clothes, brushed their teeth, Mabel combed her hair, and Dipper reached up to try and tame his unruly mop before deciding that it would be pointless to even _try_ to run a comb through his mane. The comb would more likely get lost than he would succeed in straightening the messy locks.

With his Journal tucked nicely in his inner pocket, Dipper and Mabel descended the stairs.

"Bill's probably had enough time to heal, right? So he can come back to work in the shop today?"

Dipper shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, yeah, I guess so. If the bruising is yellow he'll be fine. It really depends on how high his healing factor truly is." Mabel smiled a somewhat sad-looking smile, nodding at her brother.

"I'm worried about how _thin_ he's gotten. He's still adorable, absolutely, but he's nowhere near as healthy and cute as he had been when he first showed up, and today is only the fourth day of him staying here! Do you think he'll look better after having all of yesterday and last night to recuperate?" Dipper nodded and smiled as they descended the stairs, trying to cheer his sister up.

"I'm sure he'll be fine today! Now that Grunkle Stan is in on helping Bill, I can ask him to buy extra sweets next time he goes shopping; sugar will probably help Bill keep up his energy and weight. Besides that, Bill just strikes me as the kind of guy who would prefer to eat lots of sweets." Mabel laughed at the truth in that statement.

"Yeah, you're probably right. He'd probably snack on a bunch of fancy deserts if he could!" Dipper chuckled in response as they entered the basement.

Bill was in his cage, wrapped so thoroughly in his covers that only the top of his golden hair could be seen, positively glowing in the sunlight. Mabel smiled and opened the cage door.

As soon as Bill heard the unlocking of the cage, he was wide awake. He peeked discretely through the holes in the quilt, sighing in relief when he saw that it was only Shooting Star.

" _Not a word of this to anyone,"_ Ford had said. Bill knew what that meant: It meant that Dipper and Mabel couldn't know that Ford had hurt him in the middle of the night. Bill imagined that this was Stanford following through with his punishment, and Ford knew that if Mabel ever found out she'd put a stop to it. At the moment, Bill was far more afraid of what would happen if Dipper and Mabel confronted Ford than he was of what Ford would do in the middle of the night while everyone else slept, so Bill would keep the secret to the best of his ability…. for now….

Bill pushed the covers away from himself, stretching _slowly_ so that he wouldn't wince at his newest injuries, yawning a fake but convincing and adorable yawn before rubbing his eyes and beginning to stand.

"Good morning, Shooting Star," he greeted as lightly as possible. Mabel's smile in response was less than one-hundred percent genuine.

' _Great,'_ Bill thought, _'I wonder what she sees….'_ Bill barely knew this body, didn't have a mirror, and thus was unsure how well his façade was set into place.

….

Mabel smiled, but on the inside she was displeased. The bruising on Bill's cheek was almost nonexistent, and his neck had only a yellow strange tint to it. Based on that, he should be healed, so why was he standing up so gingerly, as if he was trying to avoid pain? Why were his eyes so circled by dark skin and underlined with bags, sunken back into his skull even further than they had been last night?

Mabel was sure that Bill thought his smile looked completely genuine, but she could instantly see the force he was using to maintain it, and his eyes: One look at his dulled yellow eyes spoke of secrets and pain.

Bill walked past her, still slower than she would have expected, and he paused at the bottom of the stairs.

"Are you alright Bill?" Dipper asked, seeing all of the same things that Mabel was noticing. "How are your injuries?" Bill looked over and smiled another one of those wide, forced smiles.

"Much better," he said. "Practically completely healed, in fact! It truly is nice to have at least some factor of my advanced healing capabilities." Bill turned away and ascended the wooden stairs, Dipper noticing that he limped slightly on them.

Dipper and Mabel shared a long look. Bill was lying to them, but why? And what exactly was he lying to them about? Where was he injured, how badly was he injured, and how had it happened?

Mabel sighed sadly. She'd thought they had made so much progress; Bill was divulging information openly to them only a day ago, was sleeping against her shoulder the night before last. Why was he suddenly so closed off and dishonest? Didn't he know that lying was punishable? So why was he doing it?

Mabel and Dipper frowned and followed him up the stairs, not knowing what to say or do.

 **A/N:** **Thanks for reading! Remember, reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, BYE!**


	17. Chapter 16: Regular Occurrences

**Chapter 16: Regular Occurrences**

Bill manned the cash register in the shop, Mabel sitting nearby and chatting idly with Soos. The man who reminded Bill so much of a gerbil was currently repairing a damaged shelf, taking twice as long as he normally would due to the distraction that was Mabel Pines.

Bill smiled, pretended that nothing was wrong every time Mabel noticed him wince, and used his adorable charm to mildly influence people into buying more. Apparently it impressed adults, seeing a child so young be so capable with currency. Most children his age were apparently not factoring in tax or counting change due. Then again, none of these customers knew his actual age; heck, Bill himself wasn't sure how old exactly he was, especially not by Earth standards. Since Bill wasn't precisely even a true demon, in the most literal sense of the word, he was much older than any other being he'd ever met, with the sole exception being The Axolotl, of course. He wasn't actually sure which one of them was older either, they hadn't exactly met up on many occasions. No matter the case, Bill had been created long before the Earth itself, had come from another dimension that didn't even move along the axis of time, and therefore hadn't been bothered with thoughts such as _how old he was_. The simplest response he could give to humans was that he was well over a trillion years old, but he wouldn't, of course, mention that to random strangers visiting the shop.

For several hours Bill managed to occupy himself with work. He formed a steady routine, the numerous summer customers shuffling in and out, buying random worthless trinkets, Bill smiling at each of them in turn before they walked out the door. While they came and went Bill thought about what had happened last night. He hoped that nightly visits from Ford wouldn't become a part of his daily routine.

Mabel burst in with a boom box at one point, she and Soos dancing in the middle of the gift shop. Dipper rolled his eyes and shoved his face back into the Journal.

"C'mon Bill!" Mabel shouted, grabbing Bill by the arm. He winced for multiple reasons; the sudden contact, the volume of her voice, and not least of all he was worried that someone from town would recognize him. A quick glance around the shop and confirmed that none of the residents of Gravity Falls were in the shop at the moment. Still, better safe than sorry….

"No, Shooting Star," he said quietly, "I have to man the register…." Mabel laughed and flipped her hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Relax Bill! The customers can wait a few minutes!" Bill laughed nervously as a woman holding a snow globe at the cash register sniffed and turned her nose up, clearly having heard Mabel's statement.

"Seriously, _no_ ," Bill insisted, yanking his arm away from Mabel, glad that he'd already healed from last night's events. Bill turned to go back to the register, but instead froze when he saw Ford walk into the room.

In an instant Bill was back at Mabel's side. "Okay, fine, whatever you want Shooting Star." Even as Bill spoke to her, his eyes were glued on Ford. _'If he found out I was trying to deny Mabel anything, even something as simple as a random dance party, he'd be furious….'_

Mabel looked between Bill and her Grunkle and sighed. "No, Bill, it's okay. You don't have to dance," she said quietly. "Just go back to manning the register." Bill nodded quickly, a small but tight appreciative smile gracing his face before he ducked back behind the counter and began to ring up an unhappy customer, the same lady who had turned up her nose and who was now tapping her foot in a quick thrum on the wooden floor.

"Sorry for the wait," Bill apologized with a small forced smile before ringing up her item.

Ford passed Bill with a side-long glance, stopping in front of Mabel and Soos.

"I'm going out for a while, I'll be back before nightfall. If you have an emergency and need to contact me, Dipper knows where the walkie-talkie is kept." He jutted his thumb at Dipper, still busily reading Journal 2 in the corner of the room. Mabel nodded.

"Have fun, Mr. Pines!" Soos waved as Ford left the Shack, Mabel turning to Bill and observing the way he notably relaxed when Ford left the room. She frowned; something had to change. She couldn't stand to see Bill so terrified of her Grunkle Ford, a man she loved so much.

She knew her Grunkle had done some bad things, but she kind of understood. At least she tried to. He almost killed Bill when he shouldn't have, but it was only because he'd thought that Bill killed Dipper and he was grief-stricken. He was a harsh hand, but Bill kind of needed that. Besides, her Grunkle Ford did know more about the demon Bill Cipher than she did. Mabel liked to think that she was starting to understand Bill at least a little, but she also didn't know much about what Stanford had uncovered while working with Bill.

Mabel considered and finally decided what she would do. She'd just have to talk to them. Maybe she could reason with Bill and get her Grunkle Ford to back off. Bill was a self-centered person, but was he illogical? Arrogant but knowledgeable…. Maybe he'd be able to see Ford's side when she explained it to him, at least to the best of her knowledge. She wasn't mad at her Grunkle Ford, so really he hadn't done anything too bad to Bill yet, had he? Threatened him a lot, maybe.

Mabel approached the cash register as another customer left. "Hey Bill," Mabel said. "What do you think about my Grunkle Ford?" Bill looked surprised.

 _'That's a serious question…. She actually wants me to answer based on the terms of our arrangement, doesn't she?'_ Bill wondered. Feeling that he couldn't simply refuse to respond, Bill contemplated aloud.

"I guess I…. I loathe him. That's the most accurate way I can think to put it." Mabel frowned.

"Why?"

Bill scowled. "Why else? He tried to kill me! And he's done nothing but hurt me since I got here! I suppose he taught me a rather _interesting_ lesson in the kitchen on that first night, and I can see why the lesson was important, but any pain he's inflicted upon me since then? That he's done just to spite me, because he hates me as much as I hate him!" Mabel smiled a little, her eyes still looking sad. Dipper had at some point heard their conversation and had wandered closer, sitting nearby instead of in the corner of the room, not getting involved but listening in as he pretended to still be reading.

"The only time he's hurt you since that first lesson was when he thought you killed my brother." Bill flinched and looked away.

 _'If only that were true,'_ Bill thought, remembering the pain of electricity coursing through him the night before. _'Shooting Star doesn't know….'_

Mabel was still watching him, clearly waiting for a response. "I know it doesn't entirely make sense," Bill conceded. "But the fact that my hatred towards him is illogical won't just override it Shooting Star." Mabel sighed; she'd expected as much. Bill could see the disappointment on her face.

 _'What a horrible idea,'_ he thought, _'openly admitting to hating her Grunkle. But maybe….'_ Bill deflated a little, the anger dissipating a bit, and he turned to face Mabel.

"Maybe if I explained a bit…. For such a long, long time now, hate has been one of the only things I've been able to feel. It's in my nature; completely natural for me. And for years, since long before you were born, I've hated Stanford. I even feel animosity over the fact that he cost me my success during Weirdmageddon. I know it was 'evil' and 'wrong' to start Weirdmageddon, but I also really don't. I can't just override billions of years of who I was and still am in a week. Do you understand Shooting Star?" Mabel looked a little scared, and Bill worried for a moment that he'd just lost his protector, but a smile soon graced her face.

"Yeah, okay, I get it. I guess I kind of already knew anyway. I never expected to help you completely change who you are in a week, so if you're still dead-set on keeping that hatred you've been relying on for so long, I understand why it's hard to let go. I can see that you're at least sort-of trying, so that's good enough for me." Bill was surprised: She understood? She knew that he couldn't just stop being the mischievous angry triangle guy over night and she was okay with that? Bill bit his lip lightly, not knowing how to respond.

He looked at Dipper, who had by now set the Journal down and wasn't trying to hide his interest in the conversation. "What about you Pine Tree?" Dipper scoffed.

"Mabel's the only one you might have had fooled. Of course I've known this entire time that on the inside you're still bitter over this whole ordeal. Unlike Mabel, I'm not actually sure you're even _trying_ to improve, but for now I'll just have to _reluctantly_ give you the benefit of the doubt." Bill chuckled at Dipper's words, knowing that Dipper was trying to feign an animosity he didn't entirely have. The boy really was starting to enjoy having him around, wasn't he? For the adventure, no doubt, and because he felt bad for what had happened a few days prior.

Soos, who had apparently been there the whole time, was suddenly stepping up behind Bill, lunging forward and tickling him from behind.

 _'Not this!'_ Bill couldn't help but struggle against him through fits of laughter. It was horrible, but also not. Mabel laughed and joined in, attacking his sides gently and making him squirm, squinting through laugh-induced tears. After a few minutes they stopped.

Bill panted heavily, clutching at his sides. _"Why you…."_ He couldn't get the rest of the words out, but the smile still plastered on his face left no doubt that any threat he might have made would have been hollow at best.

Soos chuckled and ruffled his golden locks. "Listen little dude, I'm not one for holdin' grudges so as long as you don't hurt these kids, it's all water under the bridge to me." Dipper stared at him with wide eyes.

"Soos! You can't just-!" Soos held up a hand to silence him.

"You know how I am Dipper. Besides, he's so adorable and small, I couldn't possibly hold anything against him now! Like I said, as long as he doesn't hurt you guys, all is forgiven. We all made it out of Weirdmageddon alive didn't we? No harm no foul." Soos shrugged, his hands up in a 'what did you expect?' form of gesture. "If you ever need help little Bill, I'm your guy! Whatever you need, s'long as it's not harmful." Bill blinked at him in great surprise.

"Seriously?" Soos nodded.

"Just don't abuse it little man. Unless you give me a reason to think otherwise, I'm gonna treat you like part of the family!" Bill continued to stare at him. Surely he wasn't serious! Was this some kind of trick?

"You're joking," Bill voiced, his tone completely serious and non-quizzical. He was _certain_ that this _had_ to be some kind of prank.

Soos laughed and ruffled his hair again. "You'll see." Mabel squealed.

"Soos, now that we know you're up to it, maybe you can go on adventures with Dipper, Bill and I! We can have loads more fun if you tag along!" Bill blinked at her.

"Wait! What adventure are-" He was ignored.

"That sounds great!" Soos agreed. "We'll totally have to do that!"

"I already had a pretty cool adventure with some ants Bill showed me," Dipper added, Soos asking for details.

"Oh yeah, and that ended simply _fantastically~_ " Bill moaned as he was once again ignored.

"Who knows what we'll see next!" Mabel smiled and Bill frowned. He sighed, giving in. He had known he'd have to take them on another adventure sooner or later. He just hadn't expected the topic to come up so quickly.

"I assume that I'm the only one who knows what we're doing next….." Mabel laughed.

"Right you are, Billy!" Bill frowned at the name. "Got any ideas?" Bill contemplated.

"I think the _safest_ thing I can think of is the source of the Falls." Dipper, Mabel, and Soos all looked surprised.

"The source of the Falls?" They asked in unison. Bill smirked.

"What, you never noticed? Not even you, Pine Tree? On a map of Oregon, is there a major river that runs near here?"

"No…." Dipper said slowly.

"Then where does the waterfall come from?" Dipper's eyes widened. "And where does it go? There's the lake, but nothing else."

Soos jumped up and grabbed his keys out of his pocket. "Let's go check it out!" Bill blanched.

"What, right _now_? We're working, the Shack-"

"Go on ahead." The four turned and saw Stanley leaning in the doorway, his fez perched on his head and wearing a neatly pressed tux.

"Are you sure Mr. Pines?" Stan smiled. "Yeah, of course. It's as much your Shack now as it is mine, Soos. We can close up for a day. Won't hurt nothin'. Besides, it sounds like you'll have fun." He looked at Mabel and winked. If his Great Niece wanted an adventure, then he didn't see a reason not to make it happen.

Bill sighed. "Okay, fine. I guess we're going up the Falls." Dipper and Mabel high-fived and followed Soos out the door. "Aren't you coming?" Bill stopped and asked Stanley.

"Nah, if Ford comes back and there's no one home, he might freak out. I'd hate for that to happen, wouldn't you?" Bill paled a little just thinking about it. He nodded stiffly. "Go on Cipher, have fun. Just don't let anything happen to my Great Niece or Nephew." Again Bill nodded and walked out the door, following the Pines Twins to Soos' old pick-up truck.


	18. Chapter 17: Namesake

**Chapter 17: Namesake**

Soos stopped his truck at the top of the cliff, where the road up the mountain ended and wilderness began.

"This is as far as we can go by truck dudes," Soos told them and they began to unbuckle. Bill slipped on his yellow sweater over his yellow t-shirt once he exited the vehicle. The temperature up atop the cliff could be cold, the atmosphere being thinner and mist being thicker so close to the source of the waterfall.

Soos laughed when he saw Bill's sweater. "You make that Mabel?" He shifted back and forth, the eye following him as he went. "It blinked!" Dipper rolled his eyes.

"No, _you_ blinked Soos." Soos blinked a few times.

"Oh, yeah, you're right! When I blink it looks like it blinks!"

Mabel laughed. "You're funny Soos."

Bill looked around, noting how high the sun was above the horizon. "Come along. We don't have lots of time before the sun sets and I'd rather not be out here when it gets colder." The others nodded and followed Bill as he made a B-line for the trees.

They walked for close to fifteen minutes, Bill making his way slowly through the thick underbrush. In such a small body, he found it difficult to climb over certain logs or to force his way through different bushes.

"Should I, like, offer him some help or something?" Soos bent down and asked Mabel.

"No, he probably wouldn't appreciate it." Soos nodded and let Bill continue to struggle along at a slow pace. After another five minutes, they finally made it to their destination.

"Ah, here we are," Bill said, trying to hide the fact that he was panting from the struggle of making it through the brush. He was tired; why must young bodies tire so easily?

Mabel, Dipper and Soos gasped as they came out of the trees. Before them was a river framed by smooth grey stones, large ones that perfectly followed the edge of the vast river before them and that stretched up towards the tree line. Dipper and Mabel laughed and stepped onto the smooth surface.

"It's beautiful!" Mabel said, eyes full of wonder as she peered out across the river which rolled and churned in a heavy white current. Her eyes followed the water-flow to the source of a loud, majestic pouring sound: The edge of the cliff where the waterfall slipped over the side and thundered down to the ground far below at the base of the cliff.

Dipper pointed at the cut-off roughly a hundred meters down stream from them. "So that's the waterfall?" he asked.

Bill nodded. "Yes, the very one that this town was long ago named after. It, like the rest of the town, is a result of abnormal phenomenon. It's only proper that the town be named at least in some accordance to its abnormalities. If this waterfall wasn't strange, it would be an unfitting name. For such a strange town, it had to be named after something equally as unusual, like Dipper's nickname that was brought on by his birthmark. Can you imagine calling someone like Pine Tree something as normal as 'Mason'? It wouldn't be right." Dipper rolled his eyes and Mabel giggled.

"Like you being named something other than Bill Cipher wouldn't be fitting," she poked him playfully in the side. Bill rolled his eyes.

"Actually, my name isn't Bill Cipher." Dipper's and Mabel's jaws dropped.

"It's NOT?!" They asked in unison and Bill smirked.

"Of course not! That's just a human name I chose for myself. Did you think it was coincidental that there's a depiction of me on dollar bills, and my name is Bill and not William?"

Dipper snickered. "You named yourself after _money?_ I thought whoever designed the dollar bill named it after _you!"_

Bill grinned at him. "What can I say? I have a great sense of humor."

"So what's your real name?" Mabel asked. Bill simply shook his head.

"Even if I'd wanted to tell you Shooting Star, I wouldn't be able to. The very sounds needed to say my name are impossible to achieve in this human body, and if I could manage to recreate it, it would no doubt kill you to hear it." Dipper scoffed.

"I call BS. A name can't kill a person, 'Bill Cipher'." Dipper motioned quotation marks with his fingers in the air.

"I'm a being of PURE _destruction."_ Bill glared at Dipper. "Of _course_ my name would kill you. Not just kill, but irrevocably _obliterate_ you."

Dipper huffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay, fine, whatever."

Dipper looked upstream, against the flow of the current.

"So the source is that way?" Dipper pointed away from the cliff; He began to walk upriver. Bill smiled and remained where he was standing. "Aren't you coming?" Bill shook his head.

"There's no point. You'll be back soon enough."

"What does that mean?" Mabel asked. Bill only smirked in return.

"It'd be easiest if you simply saw for yourself. Go on, walk upstream. Couldn't possibly get lost following a big river like this, now could you?"

Soos shrugged. "C'mon guys, let's just do it!" Soos began to trod up the riverbank, Mabel smiling and bouncing happily along after him. Dipper hesitated.

"You better not have moved from that spot when we get back," he warned. Bill nodded and, as if to prove his immobility, sat down on a nearby rock.

"I trust you won't be long," Bill said somewhat mysteriously. Dipper eyed him for another moment before turning and running to catch up to Soos and Mabel.

The three adventurers walked at a steady pace up the river. Dipper pulled out his Journal as they went, jotting things down, noting the river to be about fifty meters wide. He glanced back as they soon rounded a bend in the river's path, Bill disappearing from view around the trees.

They continued their steady pace for about five minutes, and before they knew it, they had reached the outcome. Only, it wasn't the source of the water.

"What?!" Dipper stared wide-eyed as they rounded a corner and there, on the other side of the river from them, was Bill, still perched on a rock. Bill smiled at them from across the distance. "I, I don't understand! Does it feed back into itself then? Is it shaped like a hair-pin? A loop? But that doesn't make any sense…. Can magic break the laws of physics and create water out of nothing? It…." Dipper fell silent. He smiled. "Cool."

He shut the Journal, turned on his heels, and sprinted as quickly as he could back in the other direction. The river was to his right the entire way back and within minutes he was once again rounding a bend, this time on the same side of the river as Bill. "It feeds back into itself in a loop?" He questioned, Mabel and Soos panting as they caught up to him.

Bill shook his head. "Not at all. That's just what old Stanford thinks." Bill stood and began to walk upstream, just as they had done before. He stopped just shy of the deceivingly right-turning bend in the river. He looked back at them.

"I have no idea if this will work or not. I know I can still use the bare minimum of my magic, such as when I heal myself. What I don't know is if my magic is strong enough at the moment for the water to recognize me. We'll just have to see." He held out his hands on either side of him, Mabel instantly understanding his queue and taking his left hand in her right. Soos followed suite and latched onto Mabel's left hand. Dipper reluctantly took Bill's right.

"Here we go." They stepped forward, keeping a slow pace with Bill as they rounded the bend. They continued forward for five minutes…. Then ten…. After fifteen minutes Dipper spoke up.

"What's going on? We're just walking down the river in a straight direction." Dipper looked back and was surprised to see the bend in the river was only a few hundred meters behind them, not nearly half the distance they'd traveled in a straight line already.

"It hasn't decided," Bill supplied. "The water is trying to make up its mind and it's taking its own sweet time about it! I think it recognizes me at least a little, but it isn't sure if I'm actually Bill Cipher or not. It may even be contacting The Axolotl for confirmation; The Axolotl has a connection to all water in the universe. This water is likely especially confused because I'm spreading out what little of my original aura I have over all four of us."

Dipper raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean that if you took us one at a time it'd be more likely to work?"

Bill smiled and watched straight ahead. "That won't be necessary. It seems we've finally got it convinced." Dipper looked forward and, sure enough, up ahead he could see a large, smooth, round, shiny gray boulder protruding from the center of the river, stretching the whole width of the body of water and standing thirty feet tall in the center.

"Sweet," Soos said. "Is this it?"

"Indeed, Question Mark. This is the source of the Falls." As they approached, the group could see that in the center of the gargantuan stone was a crack larger than three full-grown adults, and from this split in the center of the stone poured gallons upon gallons of water.

"So why couldn't Dipper, Soos and I get here without you Bill?" Bill turned to Mabel slightly, dropping the Twins' hands and allowing Dipper to begin writing in his Journal.

"This spot has magical wards; the river didn't want humans to be able to harm or contaminate it, so there are barriers in place. Only magical beings are allowed here. Gnomes and Unicorns, for example, cam come here any time they want, but they mostly stay clear out of respect for the river so old and life-bringing. Most of Gravity Falls' creatures will only come here to escape human pursuit."

"Where does all the water come from?" Dipper asked.

"It's just another form of the water cycle, limited to only the region of Gravity Falls and working much more quickly than natural cycles. The water pouring from this stone runs down steam a rather short ways, then falls off the edge of the cliff, resulting in the waterfall. After that the water pools in the lake, and from the lake it is pushed through underground pathways. The water flows all throughout the area, deep under the ground. That's part of why all of the forestry here is so green and healthy; there's an abundant steady supply of water to everything within the boundaries of Gravity Falls. Once it's made its way through the land and trees, the water seeps back into the stone from moisture in the air or through the ground itself. Like a sponge the stone soaks it all in, then funnels it all right back out again." Dipper jotted down the information as quickly as he could, his pen a blur against the paper.

"Is it safe to swim in?" Mabel asked.

"Yeah, could you drink it?" Soos wondered, thinking that he could go for a nice bit of water after their exercise getting here.

"Oh yes, it's perfectly safe. Just don't soil the water; if you're using it simply to drink it won't mind, it exists to bring life, as most water does." He looked to Mabel. "I _wouldn't_ recommend swimming in it Shooting Star. The current is heavy all throughout, and doing so here, so close to what is considered to be a sacred area, would be disrespectful. You can swim in the lake though, of course."

"You don't strike me as someone who cares about respect, Bill," Dipper commented. Bill scoffed.

"Power always demands respect, Pine Tree. But no, I don't normally respect this river, this river respects _me._ I'M the older one, I'M the more powerful one! At least usually I am. Right now I have to tread carefully, but before this river has bowed to my whims. Even now it's somewhat rude of me to bring mere mortals here. In Weirdmageddon I transformed this water into a flow of blood that poured upwards into the sky! I don't bow down to water."

Mabel grimaced. "It sounds like the water should _fear_ you then." Bill closed his mouth and looked at her. "If I were a river, I'd be pretty traumatized by that, I think."

"Ehem, yes, well…. That may be true, but if I'm being fully honest, everything magical seems to take a…. Not a liking to me, per-say, but a strong affiliation. I've never been able to explain it. Besides extenuating circumstances such as Weirdmegadon when I threatened their lives and homes, the magical creatures and spirits of Gravity Falls have always helped me, on the rare occasions that I needed or wanted help. I don't know if they'd help me now, after everything that happened last summer, but the river here seems to have so-far leant in favor of supporting me. If it wanted to oppose me, it never would have let us through here, to its source, and there's nothing I would have been able to do to spite it in return."

Bill looked up at the sky as Soos scooped some water up in his hands, sipping the clear cool liquid. It settled in his stomach nicely. "We should be going, the sun is starting to set." Dipper looked up and, sure enough, the sky had turned pastel purple, pink, and blue, the white-water of the river glimmering under the colorful light cast by the setting sun. "We have maybe an hour before the sun disappears completely beyond the horizon. It's already starting to get a little colder."

With a nod, Dipper sketched the humongous split stone quickly into the Journal before following Bill and the others back along the riverbank, walking with the flow of the river.


	19. Chapter 18: Jeff

**Chapter 18: Jeff**

 **A/N: Yes, I made yet _another_ new cover art image! For those who can't see it for whatever reason, don't worry! I've uploaded my cover images onto my Deviant-Art so you can view them there. My Deviant-Art username is the same as this, my Fanfiction usernam: 3DPhantom**

 **Thanks to everyone who's still reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! You rock like Shmebulock!**

They reached the cliff face and Bill led them into the thick tree-line, heading in the right general direction of the truck. He stumbled through the thick growth for twenty minutes…. Which stretched into twenty-five minutes. After thirty minutes the world around them was growing darker and colder, and Bill began to curse under his breath.

Finally, after forty-five minutes of walking and when the world around them had become sufficiently dark, only a slight tinge of yellow still in the sky and the ability to see around them quickly fading, Dipper spoke up. "Bill, stop." He stopped and turned around to face the others. "We're lost, aren't we?"

Bill mumbled incoherently before speaking up. "It appears we are. How embarrassing…." Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.

"What are we gonna do?!" Mabel asked, now looking around her frantically, as if searching for the truck, hoping it would magically appear.

"I thought you knew absolutely _everything_ there is to know about this town!" Dipper accused angrily.

"I don't have the best sense of direction in this body, Pine Tree! We were going in the right direction, I thought." Bill sighed and turned to Mabel. "Don't worry Shooting Star. Worst case scenario: We find shelter and wait for someone to realize we're missing and come looking for us. It shouldn't come to that though. I have a few tricks up my sleeve." Dipper, Mabel, and Soos watched as Bill turned away from them. He cleared his throat.

' _So embarrassing….'_ Bill thought to himself before making a quick series of strange clicking and squeaking noises. _'Not perfect, but close enough.'_

Dipper blanched, then laughed. "Wha-what the heck was _that?_ "

Bill blushed but otherwise ignored Dipper, instead opting to repeat the same series of sounds, this time louder, the high-pitched clicks echoing through the fast-approaching night.

Mabel giggled. "You sound like a squirrel!"

Bill, still blushing, turned and smirked at her, ignoring Dipper's rolling laughter. "Well, that's kind of the point, isn't it?"

Dipper immediately stopped laughing. "Wait, you're speaking _squirrel?_ " Bill nodded in response, and turned to repeat the series of clicks and squeaks once more. He smiled as a squirrel suddenly came running out of a near by bush, stopping a few feet away from the group. Bill squeaked again, the series of sounds different from the previous ones. The squirrel either understood or was scared because it turned fluffy-tail and ran.

"Sweet, teach me! I wanna talk to squirrels!" Soos demanded loudly.

"Is it going to find the truck and then lead us to it?" Mabel asked.

"What did you say?" Dipper wondered if he should pull out the Journal or not.

"Woah, woah, okay!" Bill huffed in irritation. "First off, no Shooting Star, it's not going to show us the way. The language of squirrels is simple; they don't have sounds to convey concepts as complicated as 'truck' or 'road', so no Question Mark, it really wouldn't do you much good to learn the language. As for what I said, the first series of sounds that I made and which I repeated three times translates most nearly to 'help'. To the squirrel directly I said a name, one that every squirrel in Gravity Falls knows well."

"What name is that?" Dipper asked. A resulting was heard in the bushes before them and a small figure emerged.

"Jeff," Bill half-responded, half-greeted. The small red-hatted Gnome stood up straight, the tip of its hat barely reaching as high as Bill's neck and coming up to only the chest in comparison to the twins. On Soos he was barely up to the thigh.

"Bill Cipher? You've got to be kidding me! What the _hell_ happened to you?! I thought you'd died! Now you're back like _this?!_ " Jeff motioned to him.

Bill crossed his arms and mumbled. "Yeah, well, I'm not dead. At least not _yet._ " Jeff flinched, and Mabel couldn't help but wonder why.

"And now what? You send a squirrel to find me and you're here hanging out with the Pines kids in the middle of the night?"

"Actually I'm living with them for the time being." Jeff laughed.

"Well good luck with _that!_ Now why'd you call me?"

Bill blushed. "We kind of got lost…."

"YOU got US lost," Dipper interjected with a smirk. Jeff huffed.

"And now you want me to play tour-guide?" Bill eyed him blankly, a shiver coursing through him in the chilling air; for a few moments they simply stared at each other. "No response?" Jeff asked before chuckling lightly. "Yeah, okay, fine, but you owe me one Cipher." Jeff pointed off to the right of the group. "That way, and try not to fall off the cliff in the dark. I'll tag along 'till I know you've gotten there."

Bill grumbled and rolled his eyes before silently walking off in the right direction without so much as a 'thank you'. The group followed him.

Mabel and Dipper trotted up next to Jeff as he scurried along next to them, Bill struggling through the thick brush ahead of them while Soos hung back a bit.

"Thanks for helping us," Mabel said.

"I wouldn't have expected you to," Dipper interjected. "Especially not with Bill here and after everything he's done. Don't you want to, I don't know, shove him off a cliff or something?"

Jeff glared at him. "That's what's wrong with you mortal types, your response to everything is 'just kill 'em'!"

"And you tried to force my sister to marry you. Is it really that different?"

Jeff grumbled. "Yeah, alright, fine…. Since the Pines family did save all of us during Weirdmageddon, I'll humor you and answer your questions. No, I don't want to see Bill dead, even though he's usually a pompous know-it-all jerk."

"Why not?" Mabel asked. "Are you just generally opposed to killing?"

Jeff shook his head. "It's not that; Bill is important. We can't just do away with him. You humans are horrible at seeing it, but destruction has just as much of a place in this world as creation does. They're equally important to the balance of the universe; not everything can be good all the time. If Bill didn't exist, things would go haywire real quick. I'd assumed that when he died during Weirdmageddon something else had taken his place, but seeing him here now proves otherwise."

"Bill makes things go haywire," Dipper argued. "Just look at what happened during Weirdmageddon! He almost destroyed everything!" Jeff huffed.

"Yeah, well, he's _Bill_. The fact that he's indispensable isn't the only reason everything in this forest protects him."

"What else is there?" Mabel asked.

"Well, for one, we have a kind of silent deal. Bill's been around for a long time, and there have been numerous times in the past that he's protected Gravity Falls; even if sometimes he goes a bit nuts, we all still owe him for protecting us."

"What has he protected you guys from?" Dipper asked. "I can't imagine anything more potentially harmful to you than Bill Cipher!"

"He's protected us from you." Dipper and Mabel looked startled. "Well, not you specifically. You Pines actually fit in pretty well, what with your weird birth marks and extra fingers and being on the Zodiac and such. You guys could practically be considered as magical beings yourself, as part of the weirdness that goes on here. Nah, it's mostly other people that Bill protects us from. I guess it's ironic then that he protects us from humans, and it was your family, a group of abnormal humans, that ended up protecting us from him. Like I said, there's a balance to everything."

"You said there were multiple reasons you're helping him," Dipper said. "I get it, you think he's important and you owe him. What else?"

"Well, there have even been speculations that Bill Cipher was the original source of all the magic here in Gravity Falls. If anything ever happened to him, who knows? We may all just disappear, or wilt away without his power sustaining the weirdness and fueling it."

Dipper looked surprised. "You think it's possible that he's the only reason that the weirdness even exists? Because of him and his magic?" Jeff shrugged.

"It's a possibility, so we can't just ignore it."

"What about The Axolotl? Can't it sustain the weirdness?" Jeff shook his head.

"The Greater One is order itself; it can't, or more specifically won't, create disorder."

"So The Axolotl really exists? Bill wasn't lying?" Dipper asked. "We hadn't actually known for certain until now."

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Yeah it's real, and you throw its name around like it's just another every-day word! You humans are so disrespectful."

"Bill does it too," Mabel defended her brother.

"Yeah, but he's different, not to mention currently also in a human form. Bill may or may not be of equal or greater power to The Greater One itself, so he can afford to be cocky." Mabel and Dipper hummed in understanding.

"You're veering left Bill! Right, right! Just a little ways further!" Jeff called ahead to Bill, which Dipper and Mabel could now barely make out in the dark forest, only the brightness of his sweater alerting them to where he was.

Bill grumbled something under his breath that sounded like "stupid human body, annoying little dwarf" before striking out in a more right-going direction. Mabel frowned.

"He's still rude," Mabel said. "I'm surprised you aren't yelling back at him, calling him names in return."

Jeff shrugged. "If he were just another human I would, absolutely. But we all go easy on Bill."

"Why?" Mabel asked. "He wouldn't stop protecting the town if you talked back. Why don't you respond in like? Call him names and stuff? I don't think he'd actually even care that much if you did."

"No one likes to kick a guy when he's down," Jeff said. "And he's always down. Even when he's his normal self, he's just naturally really far down." Dipper and Mabel looked confused.

"What do you mean?" Dipper asked.

"Magic is affected by emotions. When the other Gnomes and I get angry and come together, we glow red. When Bill's mad, his fire is red, but every other time it's blue, right?" Dipper and Mabel nodded. "Everything in Gravity Falls that has anything to do with magic or weirdness can tell what he really is, what Bill really feels like, even if he does a pretty good job of not letting it show. He's one depressed guy. I guess I would be too if I was forced to be the lonely creature of destruction for all of eternity, everything I touch burning to ash. He really drew the short straw, don't you think?" Dipper and Mabel were quiet, lost in thought.

' _I never thought about it like that,'_ Mabel thought to herself. She frowned. Was he really that sad? It would explain why he had such a short temper….

"Besides, he isn't a jerk one-hundred percent of the time. Very rarely, he'll help one of us without asking for anything in return, or he'll make a perfectly fair deal. Sometimes he's kinda cool and nice, but yeah, most of the time he's still a lunatic and jack-ass. For years he'll be angry and sad and dangerous, and then bam! For five minutes he's the greatest guy you've ever known and before you know it, he just snaps right back to his usual jerky self. Maybe some day, if you're lucky, you'll get to see what I mean. It's like most of the time he's insane, but once in every very long while the real him shows through."

"So what is he really?" Dipper asked.

"That's my point exactly. _What_ he is is pure destruction, but _who_ he is, no one really knows. Someone distinctly _not_ like the Bill Cipher you think you know, I assume." The twins were silent. Why did Bill have to be so _complicated_ all the sudden? He used to seem so straight-forward; it used to be abundantly clear that he was the bad guy and nothing else, but looking back on it all, the twins could no longer say for certain that Bill was evil through-and-through.

The silence was interrupted as Bill stopped abruptly ahead of them, having just crashed into the side of the truck.

"Damn freakin'~!" Jeff chuckled lightly.

"Looks like you found what you were looking for," Jeff said. "I helped you, so promise me that the next time you come back from the dead, you'll let someone know. Deal?" Bill rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, fine." He opened the truck door and hopped in, glad to be escaping the bite of the cold.

Mabel thanked Jeff again as he scurried off into the bushes. She followed Dipper into the truck as Soos started it up. The ride back to the Mystery Shack was silent, Bill falling asleep in Mabel's lap on the way there.


	20. Chapter 19: Guilt, Fear, Wrath

**Chapter 19:** **Guilt, Fear, Wrath**

 **A/N: Warning for sort-of child abuse/mild torture (depending on your point of view).**

Mabel regretfully had to shake the sleeping Bill awake when they got back to the Shack. The front porch light was on, a clear sign that someone was waiting up for them. Bill looked a little nervous as they exited the truck and approached the Mystery Shack. Mabel walked close to him; he glanced over at her questioningly and she smiled, as if letting him know that she was there and that as long as she was with him, she wouldn't let her Grunkle Ford hurt him. He didn't smile and still looked notably nervous, but he nodded, trusting Shooting Star to protect him. The group of four entered the Shack.

"Grunkle Stan, we're home!" Her Grunkle was sitting in front of the TV; upon hearing their entrance Stanford entered the living room from the opposite opening by the kitchen, stopping in the doorway and leaning against the door frame.

"It's late," Ford said. "Almost nine o'clock."

Mabel waved her hand dismissively. "We've been out later plenty of times! Besides, we were with Soos." As if to prove the point, Soos tipped his little hat in greeting, accompanied by a "hey, what's hangin'?"

Ford raked his eyes across the four who had just entered, noting that they all appeared to be in perfect condition. Bill was wearing a distinctly expressionless face that Ford didn't trust, but as long as his Great Niece and Nephew were alright Ford couldn't complain.

"It was awesome!" Dipper said suddenly, disrupting his Grunkle's thought process. "We went to see the source of the waterfall! I bet you've never seen it before because you're not magic. Here, I'll show you." Dipper pulled out the Journal and he and his mentor began to look over the newest additions. Dipper paused and turned to Bill and Mabel. "Next time we go somewhere, remind me to bring a camera so I can take pictures!" The two nodded and Dipper and Ford exited the room, shooting off scientific jargon back and forth as they went.

Stan laughed. "So, did you have fun Sweetie?" He asked.

Mabel nodded vigorously. "Yeah, it was _beautiful_ at the top of the Falls! We should go up there for a picnic some time! The view from the top of the cliff is amazing, and later in the year when It's hotter, I bet it'll still be nice and cool up there!" Bill nodded in confirmation, but didn't speak. He was still nervous around Stanley, Bill didn't know how to act while in his presence. The conman had been nice enough to him on that first day at the Shack, but they hadn't really interacted much since then. Until Bill knew more about Stan's opinions on his being here, he was going to tread carefully around him.

Mabel elbowed Bill lightly in the side. "Well, I've got to take him downstairs to bed. Grunkle Ford said it was almost nine, so it's your bedtime!" Bill nodded and followed Mabel. As it had been done for the past two days, Mabel first led him upstairs, Bill showered and brushed his teeth with the spare toothbrush they'd given him, and at nine thirty-four Mabel was shutting his cage door.

"Goodnight Bill," she said. "I'll be back in the morning to get you." Bill nodded and waited until she had left before laying down amongst his blankets. He was instantly asleep, tired out from the events of the day.

Once again, Bill was awoken in the early hours of the morning by the sound of his cage door being slid open. He bit his lip and stayed curled in on himself, not bothering to look up at the intruder or to sit up. Unlike the night before, no electricity jolted him. Instead he was grasped around the bicep and he didn't struggle as Ford pulled him outside. It was cold out, the air instantly biting and chilling him. Ford brought him to the side of the Shack, Bill eyeing him carefully but otherwise remaining completely still, his eyes following Ford's movements. Ford pulled Bill's arms behind him, made him kneel down with his back facing the wall, and tied his wrists to a pipe on the side of the house. He picked up the water hose and before a minute could elapse, Bill was sitting on the ground, hands still tied behind him, soaking wet. He shivered, but didn't struggle.

Ford shut the water off and went back inside, and only once he'd left did Bill respond. He growled, anger flooding his system. He glared at the door to the Mystery Shack that Ford had just disappeared through.

 _'I hope he's enjoying the warmth inside,'_ Bill thought to himself, ' _because as soon as I have my powers back, I'm teleporting him ten feet under the polar ice cap!'_ Bill leant his head back and it thumped lightly against the wooden wall behind him. He huffed out a breath, white mist billowing out in front of him.

An hour ticked by; it must have been thirty-five degrees out and by the end of it Bill was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Ford finally came back out. He glared at the small trembling form, feeling horrible for what he was doing. And then suddenly, Bill's eyes snapped up and Ford saw within them pure hatred, a burning anger, and they _glowed red._

Ford's guilt instantly took a back seat to the fear he'd been haunted by ever since Bill returned, and with the fear came anger. He lashed out, pulling his knife and cutting the ropes away from Bill's writs, nicking the skin as he did so. He grasped Bill's arms tightly and threw him to the ground. The entire time, Bill only stared back, his face neutral but his eyes burning with indignant fury. Ford hesitated, still afraid.

"What's the matter, _Fordsie?_ Scared of a little boy?" His voice was scathing. Bill stood up, hands clenched at his sides, his entire body trembling in a combination of anger and his body's attempt to warm itself.

Ford growled. " _You_ should be afraid of _me!_ " He kicked at Bill's legs, making him cry out a little and kneel on the ground. Ford grabbed his arms again and shook him. "In this body _you're_ the weak and pathetic one! Even in your usual form I defeated you! I'm not afraid of you!" Ford shoved him the rest of the way down, pressing his palm against the back of Bill's head until his face was in the dirt.

Bill glared up at him, frightened but also still clearly angry. His eyes said ' _we both know that's not true,'_ but in the interest of self-preservation he remained silent.

Ford glared at him and shoved him harder into the ground before letting up, standing and stepping back a few paces. "Get up, Cipher." Bill did as he had been told, wiping his cheek to rid it of dirt. Ford walked swiftly back into the Shack, Bill following silently down to the basement. Ford tossed him a change of clothes and exited the room, quietly retreating to his own room not ten feet away.

Bill changed into the dry garments, chucked the wet ones into the corner of the room, and curled in under his quilt. He shivered like a leaf in the wind.

' _If I could kill them all right now, I would,'_ Bill thought. _'I wouldn't leave a single Pines alive, and I would save Ford for last!'_ Despite the anger he was feeling, he was also afraid of what was to come; he knew that, presently, there was nothing he could do. Sleep overtook him, a deep and restless Dreamscape that spoke of haunted thoughts, anger, and fear. People always hated what they feared, and always feared what they didn't understand or couldn't comprehend. Bill Cipher was no different, and in that way, he and Ford were very much alike; they both feared a future they couldn't foresee.

….

True to her word, Mabel came down to retrieve Bill in the morning. As humans were prone to do, she overlooked the fact that Bill had different clothes on than he had last night, a black long-sleeved shirt rather than a black T-shirt. She did notice small scrapes and bruises on his face, but quickly reasoned that they'd been inflicted while Bill was stumbling through the woods on the way to and from the source of the Falls yesterday and she simply hadn't noticed them until now.

"There's cereal upstairs for breakfast, and after that Grunkle Stan said he's got a surprise for us!" Mabel said as Bill exited his cage.

"A surprise for you and Pine Tree?" Bill clarified.

Mabel shook her head. "Nope! For all three of us!" Bill looked concerned and confused, but he figured that the surprise couldn't be bad if Stanley was giving it to Shooting Star and Pine Tree as well as himself.

Dipper was already eating his cereal in the kitchen. He had the Journal out and propped up on the kitchen table. His eyes never left the page he was reading as he dunked his spoon into his cereal bowl, scooping up some milk and crunchy flakes, and brought it up to his face. The spoon made contact with Dipper's chin and spilt onto his shirt. He didn't seem to either notice nor care as he continued to read, getting another spoonful of cereal and this time only hitting his cheek and spilling a little before managing to get the spoon into his mouth, chewing the cereal with a crunch, his eyes never leaving the old, yellow, wrinkly pages of the book.

Mabel rolled her eyes and handed Dipper some paper towels. He took them, patted down the front of his shirt for all of two seconds, and threw them on the table, the front of his shirt still baring a wet milk spot and a few flakes of cereal.

Mabel walked over to a kitchen cabinet and pulled out a box of Lucky Charms and two white ceramic bowls. She poured one bowl, and on the second one filled it half-way before powder began to trickle out.

"Ew, gross!" She said. "I always hate getting the last bowl from a box of cereal, the powder at the bottom is disgusting and it gets all clumpy in the milk!" She complained, pouring the milk, dropping a shiny metal spoon into each bowl, and handing Bill the full bowl. He was, after all, their guest, and Mabel thought it would be rude to force the worse bowl onto him.

Bill shook his head and reached for the half-full, somewhat powdery bowl. "It's alright Shooting Star, I hardly have any standards when it comes to food, so I won't mind taking this bowl." He slipped it from her grasp and carried it over to the table. "Besides, I wouldn't be able to finish the full bowl." Mabel smiled at first, thankful to him, but her smile quickly faded.

"It's been bothering me how thin you've gotten," Mabel said as she sat down. The turn their conversation had taken finally had Dipper looking up from his book. He only glanced up and across at Bill, but it still clearly meant that he was interested in the topic of discussion.

"I asked Grunkle Stan to buy you sweets," Dipper said, picking up another spoonful of cereal, still eyeing the pages. "I think it might help you gain some weight."

"And you think he'll actually spend the extra money on sugary items for me?" Bill asked, sounding clearly skeptical and highly doubtful.

"Well that depends," came Stan's voice from behind Bill and Mabel. They turned and saw Stan leaning on the kitchen door's frame. "Do you want sweets?"

Bill blushed. "I-I don't know…." He turned around and pushed at his cereal with his spoon, tense under Stan's watchful eye.

Stan looked at Mabel, silently conveying his confusion. As only he and his Great Niece tended to do, he had a silent conversation with her.

' _What'd I do? He just clammed up.'_

Mabel slowly slid her eyes over to Bill, a slightly worried look on her face before snapping her eyes back to her Great Uncle's. _'He doesn't trust you. He thinks you'll hurt him like Grunkle Ford.'_

Stan nodded and rubbed his chin in thought. He snapped.

"I know! You don't know if you want sweets or not because you haven't had them!" Bill looked back over his shoulder at Stanley as the old man approached. He set a hand on Bill's shoulder and the small form jolted under the physical contact. Stan pretended not to noticed. "We'll have to get lots of different kinds then so you can try them."

Mabel became very cheerful under this prospect. "I bet he'll love all of it! Who doesn't like sweets? We have to get donuts, and cake, and ice cream, and candy, and soda, and lots of other stuff too!"

Stanley chuckled and joined her in listing things off that they could feed Bill. "Pies, cookies, brownies, you name it! By the time we're done you're gonna be stuffed like a piñata! We'll have to space it out though, can't buy too much at once."

"It sounds like you want to fatten me up and eat me," Bill said quietly, not sure if Stanley would appreciate the humor. To his surprise, Stan laughed, and Bill smiled and relaxed a little in return.

' _I should have known,'_ Bill thought to himself. _'Stanley and Stanford are polar opposites, and Stanley loves Shooting Star more than anything. He won't hurt me without some serious provoking, and certainly not over some small, trifle matter.'_

"So what is the surprise?" Mabel asked as she finished off her bowl of cereal, Bill still trying to force himself to complete his half-bowl and Dipper having given up on eating his several minutes ago.

"Oh, yeah, that! It actually fits perfectly with what we were talking about. You're out of cereal, I'm out of pancake mix, small-fry needs some sugar, and I convinced Ford to work the shop for a few hours. I figured we could go grocery shoppin'!" Stan said. "If you're interested."

Mabel nodded vigorously. "Heck yeah! Let's do it!" She snatched up the three bowls on the table and discarded them in the kitchen sink before grabbing Bill by the arm. "Come on!" She pulled.

Bill let out a short cry of pain and instantly Mabel let go, jumping back. Dipper jerked his eyes up from the Journal and Stan came forward and lifted his hands, hovering them a foot away from Bill as if deciding whether or not he should touch him; whether or not to inspect him for injuries or stay clear so as not to hurt him.

"Oh my gosh, Bill, I'm so sorry!" Mabel said, tears springing to her eyes as she clasped her hands firmly together against her chest, as if afraid that they would strike the blond before her. "I-I got carried away, forgot how small you are. I'm so, so sorry!" Tears streamed down her face.

"No, no, it's okay!" Bill quickly assured, standing and stepping closer to her. "I'm fine, it's okay! It only hurt a little, alright? I'm fine." He smiled at her. Her tears slowed and she nodded a little, wiping them away with her blue sweater sleeve.

' _She didn't even grab me that tightly: It wouldn't have hurt at all if it weren't for the bruises from last night,'_ Bill thought. _'It's a good thing she chocked it up to how small, young, and weak this body is.'_

Dipper frowned. Something about what had just happened struck him as odd, but he couldn't place what it was at the moment. He shut the Journal and pocketed it.

"Well, uh, well, we should get going then," Stan said awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood as Mabel continued to rub at her cheeks, trying to clear away the tears. Stan opened the front door and Mabel took Bill's hand in hers, this time her touch soft and non-demanding. Bill worried that this unfortunate event was going to cause a problem; Mabel's hold was imperceptibly light, and Bill was concerned that she would be too afraid of hurting him to act like her usual self. He squeezed her hand a little, as if proving that he wasn't made entirely of glass, and she smiled at him, holding more tightly and pulling him out the door.

Stan frowned as he watched them exit the Shack, Dipper pausing next to him in the doorway. Stanley had been around a long time, had seen a lot of things, and what he was currently seeing he didn't like one bit. Bill might be a demon, but to Stan, at this very moment, he looked much more like an abused child. He flinched away from people's touches, he was thin, there was bruising on his face, Stan thought he'd seen more discoloration on his wrist while he was eating cereal, and….

"She didn't grab him that hard," Dipper spoke up. Stan glanced down at him.

"I know."

"His most recent injuries should have been healed by yesterday morning."

"…. I know."

Dipper didn't say any more as he followed Mabel and Bill out to the car, Stan shutting the front door behind him.

 **A/N: I got bored today and made Gravity Falls themed sugar cookies…. That wasn't important, I just felt like saying it. XD**


	21. Chapter 20: Shopping With Stan

**Chapter 20: Shopping With Stan**

Bill had stopped abruptly ten feet away from the car. Mabel kept walking and opened the door to the back seat. She turned and looked at him. "What's wrong Bill?" Bill grumbled and inched forward slowly, slumping in defeat.

Dipper eyed him curiously before snapping. "Oh yeah! You hate vehicles! How could I forget?"

Bill looked back at him from just outside the car. He was clearly sulking. "Yes, and I've _seen_ how Stanley drives!" He shivered at the thought. He glared at the back seat of the car. "I'm going to die today in the back of this metal death trap aren't I? Wrapped around a tree after we've run off the road!"

Stan raised an eyebrow. "What's the problem here?"

Dipper motioned for him to come closer and Stanley leaned down to Dipper's height.

"He's terrified of riding in moving vehicles," Dipper whispered to him as Mabel climbed into the back seat and motioned for Bill to follow her in. Bill shook his head vigorously. "I mean like _seriously terrified._ He was scared when we drove past five miles per hour in the golf cart; I played a mean joke on him and started driving like a maniac and he _cried._ Says he can't help it. It'd…. Probably be best if you just drive really slowly and carefully, okay? If you don't Mabel will be furious; she was supper pissed at me when I freaked him out in the golf cart."

Stan nodded his understanding. "Guess this is gonna be a longer shopping trip than I thought. We'd better get going then." Stan climbed into the driver's seat.

Dipper stepped up behind Bill. "C'mon, get in." He motioned to the back seat. Bill glared at him, pouted some more, and finally slid into the back seat, Dipper climbing in after him.

Dipper wasn't sure Bill knew, but his pouting was nothing short of adorable. He looked thoroughly dejected, but not angry or hysterical. Dipper went to help Bill fasten his seatbelt, but small hands quickly grand at the harness.

"I know how to buckle in, thank you," Bill said somewhat sarcastically. Dipper rolled his eyes.

Once they were all buckled up, Mabel wrapped her arms around Bill's neck. "If it helps, just close your eyes," she said.

"That would do the exact opposite of _help._ It's _horrible_ not being in control of where I'm going, but not even being able to _see?_ That would be intolerable!"

Mabel shrugged. "Whatever you say."

Stan put the key into the ignition and started up the car. It _clanked_ to life, the car being nearly as old as Stanley himself, and it lurched as Stan put it in drive. Bill clutched at his pants legs, staring straight out the window in front of him.

Stan looked back at the trembling form in the middle of the back seat through the rear-view mirror. Bill looked even paler than usual; the car was clearly more terrifying than the golf cart to him. That made sense because the golf cart was much more open and felt less like a metal box than the car did. Thinking it might help, Stan rolled down the windows before slowly letting off the break, crawling into motion.

Bill was tense for the entire ride, but it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd thought it would be. Granted he thought they'd all die in a ball of fire; he'd seen enough car crashes to know how horrible these contraptions could be. Before it was funny, watching all the little cars so similar to insects smash into each other in puffs of smoke and flame. But now, actually being _in_ the car and in mortal danger, Bill could no longer see the humor in car crashes.

Stan kindly went no faster than twenty miles an hour the whole way into town, which was still much too fast for Bill's liking, but the open windows helped. They were going slow enough that the wind blowing through the open windows wasn't strong enough to ruffle his hair more than a little bit, and it was a comforting breeze that both reminded Bill that they weren't going too fast and that helped him breathe easier. Still, it was horrible for him.

As soon as the car was in park, Bill scrambled to get out. Dipper got out quickly and held the door open as Bill stumbled out, falling to his hands and knees on the sidewalk and panting heavily.

Stan got out of the car. "Wow, you _**really**_ hate cars, huh?" Bill could only manage to nod as Mabel came around the car and patted him on the back lightly. After a few moments he groaned and stood up.

"I'm fine, it's okay." He was still trembling a little bit though.

"I'd say you have a downright phobia," Stan said, scratching his head. "Probably won't be able to take you anywhere very often."

Bill nodded. "That's fine by me. I had no intention of leaving Gravity Falls anyway."

Dipper nodded and pointed at the grocery store behind him. "Well, we should probably get going. The faster we shop, the slower we can go on the ride back." Bill nodded and the group ventured into the store.

Stan grabbed a shopping cart and they randomly walked the isles. Mabel snatched up two boxes of her favorite cereal: Lucky Charms. They stopped off for two jugs of milk, an assortment of fruits that could be eaten on-the-go like bananas and apples, and some various lunch meats and yellow squares of cheese for sandwiches. They spent the better part of an hour simply shopping around, picking up drinks, including non-diet soda for Bill, and other necessary items.

"Our mom never lets us drink soda unless it's sugar-free, and Stan only lets us have it every once in a blue moon," Mabel said as she picked up the sodas.

Bill chuckled. "I hate blue moons."

Dipper raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

For a few moments, Bill didn't respond. "No reason I hope you ever discover."

Stan intervened before Dipper's curious nature had him demanding answers. "There's a reason these kids don't get sugar!" Stan said. "They go nuts, total sugar high! You'd think it was crack the way they go jumpin' off the walls! Especially Mabel here, she goes ballistic." He set his hand on the top of Mabel's head and she giggled.

"It's true," she said. "I get a little hyper."

"I can only imagine," Bill said. The girl was normally already so excitable, he didn't want to deal with what she was like when hyped on sugar.

They purchased some other random sweets: A loaf of sweet cinnamon bread, a baker's dozen donuts (Mabel ensuring that several had pink frosting and sprinkles), and lastly a carton of Neapolitan ice cream.

"Remember kids," Stan said as they began to check out, "these sweets are tempting, but they're for Bill. He needs them if he's going to gain weight." Dipper and Mabel nodded.

"It'll probably help him stay awake for longer. I've noticed that he falls asleep a lot," Dipper said. "He's definitely lacking proper energy levels."

Stan paid for the groceries, only noticing that Mabel had slipped in not one but _three_ big bags of Doritos until after the purchase had been made. He rolled his eyes, but let them be without comment. The kids (and Bill) all helped him carry the bags out to the car, setting them in the hatchback.

"We'd better get going if we don't want the ice cream to melt on our rather slow ride back to the Shack," Stan said, closing the hatch door once all the groceries were nicely tucked away inside.

Bill and the others began to walk towards the front of the car, but Bill was suddenly startled as he came around the back corner and smacked dead-center into another person. They both fell back onto their butts on the sidewalk.

"Hey," Bill said with a small grimace. "Watch where you're going." He couldn't care less whose fault it actually was.

"Sorry sunny, didn' see ya there!" Bill looked up and locked eyes with the hillbilly before him. Fiddleford McGucket had cleaned up a bit since last Bill had seen him; his beard was better kept, his clothes were less tattered, his skin was less filthy, and his back was straighter, making him look taller even as he was still sitting on the sidewalk. Despite all of this he was still very much the wacky hillbilly he'd been for several years running. Less insane, but still a nut-job.

' _A very smart nut-job,'_ Bill reminded himself. This was the man who invented the device that defeated him, who worked with Stanford over thirty years ago and who nine months ago had regained a large portion of his memory and intelligence.

Fiddleford stood and offered Bill a hand. He reluctantly accepted it, being pulled to his feet. McGucket smiled at him, Bill stared back, and he flinched when McGucket's smile suddenly faded away. He let go of the old man's hand.

"You're-"

' _He's too smart….'_ Bill thought to himself, backing away a little.

"You're…. Hot skunk-baby you're _HIM_! It's B-!" Dipper had quickly reached up and slapped a hand over the hillbilly's mouth.

"McGucket, please, be quiet!" Dipper pleaded. "There's no use trying to hide it from you if you've recognized him but we can't talk about it here!"

McGucket stared down at Dipper, moving his hand away and peering deep into his eyes. "You don't look possessed….." He said. "Is that creature controlling you? Threatenin' ya?"

Dipper shook his head vigorously. "No, no. Listen, we'll explain. Just, come back to the Shack with us so we can talk in private," Dipper pleaded. McGucket looked over at Bill again, who was at this point leaning against the car, his lips pressed in a tight line, biting into his bottom lip nervously.

McGucket nodded. "There betta be a good explanation fur this."

Dipper nodded. "A fascinating one, I promise, but it's not safe to talk here."

"Not safe fer who?" Fiddleford asked.

Dipper looked nervous. "For him," he said, nodding his head in Bill's direction.

McGucket nodded. "Alright, fine. I'll play long for a little while." Stan motioned to the car and McGucket huffed, sitting in the front passenger's seat. Bill didn't make a scene as he climbed into the car after Mabel and got buckled, Dipper sitting down and closing the door after him.

Bill was even more tense on the way back to the Shack than he had been on the way into town. How would Fiddleford respond to all of this? He was a logical guy, and Bill imagined him to be less…. _Violent_ in nature than Stanford was, but Bill still couldn't be sure that he was safe around McGucket and that made the car ride all-the-worse.

Once they'd exited town, Fiddleford spoke up. "Does Stanford know?" He asked.

Stan nodded. "Of course he does."

"And he's a'right wit it?"

Again Stanley nodded. "He's doing okay. He's tense, for sure, but he's allowing it."

Fiddleford looked around, then down at the instrument cluster on the dashboard. "Is there any purticulur reasin you're goin' under twenty?" it was Mabel who responded to this inquiry.

"Bill hates cars."

McGucket looked back at him and Bill looked away, peering out the left window, blushing slightly, his hands still clenched in his now wrinkled pants legs. To his surprise, McGucket laughed.

"Well whadda ya know? Bein' human givin' ya a bit o' perspective there, lil buddy?" Bill tensed up and nodded stiffly. "I'll admit, you ain't lookin' so hot Bill." Bill grimaced, but once again remained silent. "Does he hav' his powers? What are his capabilities? It don't look like he's doin' very well."

Mabel frowned. "We-we're trying." Her eyes teared up a little. "I-I know we haven't been caring for him properly…." Everyone instantly jumped to sooth her.

"I didn' mean-"

"Honestly Shooting Star-"

"Not your fault Pumpkin-"

"He's not so bad-"

"I'm _fine."_

Mabel rubbed at her eyes. "I know, I know. Still, I _am_ sorry Bill." McGucket looked startled.

"It's alright Shooting Star…. I don't feel like I'm going to just keel over, so there's that…."

"You actually care abou' his well-bein'?" McGucket asked.

Mabel nodded. "Y-yeah, I do."

Fiddleford hummed. "I don't know what Ford's thinkin', but it sounds like ye all playin' a dangerous game here."

"It's no game," Dipper assured. "Bill was sent to us for help." They arrived at the Shack and, just like before, Bill bolted from the vehicle, this time exiting through Mabel's door. McGucket opened the front passenger door and looked out at the figure kneeling on the ground.

"Still a bit melodramatic I see," McGucket commented. Bill ignored him and stood on shaky legs, instead walking around to the back of the car and opening the hatch.

The Pines (and again, Bill) carried the groceries inside and to the kitchen via the back entrance. Mabel and Dipper began to put things away while Fiddleford and Bill sat down at the kitchen table.

"Wait here," Stan said. "I'll go get my brother." Bill and McGucket did as they'd been instructed.

McGucket watched the being before him while Bill squirmed uneasily in his seat. "So why'r you here?" McGucket asked. "How?"

"I…. Made a deal, a long time ago, with an ancient being, The Axolotl. If I was ever close to death, I could ask The Axolotl to save me, but then I'd also have to accept punishment for my past crimes and seek redemption."

"That's why he's here," Mabel verified. "We're helping him with that whole redemption thing. The Axolotl sent Bill here as a human boy about a week ago, with no powers, and we've been trying to guide him."

"Made any progress?" Fiddleford asked.

Mabel paused in her work at putting up the groceries. "I _think_ so. It's hard to tell. He definitely has more emotions in his current body, so that effects how he acts a lot. Before he was just angry and snarky. I think fear has given him a pretty heavy dose of reality, but I'm not sure it's a good one. I try to be as nice to him as possible; I'm trying to teach him about love and friendship."

McGucket snorted. "Well good luck with that, little missy!" Bill remained perfectly quiet. "You said he's got some fear. I saw he was scared o' the car ride, but would I be correc' in assumin' that Ford's what he's really afraid of?"

"I think that's a fair assumption," Ford said, coming into the room. "Kids, when you're done there go help Stanley with the gift shop, alright?" Dipper nodded and, reluctantly, Mabel did as well. She watched Bill nervously as he sat rigid at the kitchen table. Dipper and Mabel exited the kitchen.

"So, Fiddleford, Stan tells me you knew the moment you saw him," Ford began.

McGucket nodded. "I'd know them eyes anywhere. An' that voice: Impossible to miss!"

Ford chuckled. " _I_ missed it, the first day he came here. It was Dipper who put it all together."

McGucket laughed as well. "You're loosin' your touch, my friend."

Ford nodded. "Yes, well, I've made sure to keep my guard up since then."

"He claims he's here fer redemption," McGucket stated, lowering his gaze from Ford to Bill. Bill sat rigid, as rigid as he'd been on the car ride, if not more so."

"Yes, he _claims_ that. I'm still not sure what he really wants." Ford placed a hand on Bill's right shoulder and Bill flinched, biting his bottom lip so strongly that it bled, eyeing the table intently, not daring to look up. Fiddleford watched him carefully.

Fiddleford sighed. "Dag-nab-it Stanford. Is this _really_ the _best_ option you could come up with?"

Ford frowned and removed his hand from Bill's shoulder. "I don't know what you mean."

"I think ya know _exactly_ what I mean. There's only so many ways this can end Stanford. Either you destroy him, or he regains his powers and destroys _you._ Beating _Bill Cipher_ when he's down shure don't sound like the _smart_ thing ta do." Bill snapped his eyes up to him. Was Fiddleford _defending_ him? Already? Or did he just disagree with Ford's methods?

McGucket watched as Bill finally looked at him. His eyes shown with something akin to hope. He was looking for people to be on his side; he didn't care who it was or where they came from. The saddest thing was, the sides weren't about just opposing Ford. McGucket could see past that. Bill wasn't looking for people to simply oppose Stanford, he was looking for people to defend him because he currently couldn't defend himself. Mabel was right: Fear had had the largest effect on the demon, but it wasn't heading into any good direction as far as Fiddleford could tell.

"I don't think this is any of your business Fiddleford," Ford said.

"It could be though, if I wanted it ta be. I could get involved."

"And will you?"

"…." McGucket paused. He knew that if something wasn't done, the most likely outcome of all this was a dead Bill Cipher, but he didn't know if he was okay with that or not. Looking at Bill now, his instincts screamed two opposing opinions. He didn't know what to do….

"No. I'll leave it to you, for now." McGucket sighed and stood up from the kitchen table. "Just…. Think about what ye're doin' Ford."

Ford nodded and McGucket stood from the kitchen table.

"Do me one favor," Ford said before McGucket could exit the Shack, "don't mention this to anyone."

McGucket nodded. "In return, I simply ask ya to include me when it comes time to decide whether or not ta kill him." He nodded at Bill. "Don't decide without meh." Ford nodded and McGucket departed.

"Come on." Bill followed Ford downstairs. He opened Bill's cage, ushered him inside, and slammed it shut. There Bill waited until Dipper came down to collect him for dinner.

"Let's go, Bill." He swung the cage door open as Bill was putting away his crayon. Bill followed him upstairs.

Upon entering the kitchen, Bill was greeted with the scent of hamburgers ******. Stan was just pulling the cooked patties out of the oven.

Mabel was pulling a bag of cool-ranch Doritos out of the cabinet. "Nothing goes better with burgers than chips!" Mabel clarified cheerfully.

"What about fries?" Dipper asked.

Mabel laughed and dismissed him with a waving hand gesture. "Naaaah! That's the traditional all-American meal, but that doesn't mean it's the _best_ meal! My favorite is still pink sprinkle donuts, though. We're having that for breakfast tomorrow!" Mabel said to Bill. Bill smiled and nodded in return.

Stan sliced one of the prepared burgers in half, knowing that Bill wouldn't be able to finish a whole one. Mabel placed some chips on the plate and handed it off to Bill.

The Pines and their plus-one gathered around the table. Ford ate silently, going over his most recent notes.

"Look," Mabel said, elbowing Bill lightly in the side. She pointed to her plate. "If you put the chips _in_ the burger, it's much, much better!"

Bill looked skeptical. "Your cooking advice hasn't been exactly spot-on since I got here…."

"It's alright," Dipper said, and Bill noticed that he too had put a layer of chips in his burger. "She's actually right about this one. It's better if you put the chips inside." Bill nodded and proceeded as instructed.

They ate mostly in silence for a few minutes. Eventually, Ford turned to Dipper. "I've been thinking about starting a Fourth Journal," he said.

Dipper's eyes widened. "Really? Why? There's still room in the Third."

"You're working in Journal Number 3. Something tells me that, with your newest additions of Bill and everything that he has to show you, it won't be long before you fill it up. Of course, when you are done with it, you understand what that will mean, don't you?"

Dipper looked confused. "No. What?"

"It means you'll have written exactly half of that Journal. As far as I'm concerned, that makes Journal Number 3 a perfect fifty-fifty collaboration between the two of us." Dipper's eyes widened. "You're as much the Author now as I am, Dipper."

Dipper smiled. "Hey, you're right! And to think, a year ago I was looking for you; I idolized you! Well, I still idolize you, but now I'm actually writing the Journals _with_ you!"

Ford chuckled. "You're still the only person I know who can continue my research." Ford glanced over at Bill. "In fact, at the moment, I think you have access to more knowledge than I do."

Dipper looked over at Bill too. "Well, yeah, I guess so…."

"Don't let it go to waste. Use it while it lasts," Ford advised. "But also be careful." Bill frowned, feeling as if Ford was referring to him as the "it" and not the information he had to offer.

Dipper nodded and continued to eat. Once everyone was finished, Stan put the leftover two-and-a-half burgers on the countertop in the fridge while everyone else migrated to the living room. Ford continued on to the vending machine and down to his lab, Mabel and Dipper perching on the armrests of Stan's recliner as they were prone to doing. They watched TV for a while and half an hour after they started, Mabel got up and went to the kitchen, coming back with a bowl of ice cream. She handed it to Bill, who was sitting on the floor by her side of the recliner.

"Here," she said, "it's been long enough since dinner for you to eat some more." Bill nodded and took the bowl from her, the white porcelain surface cool to the touch. He ate some and everyone else in the room pointedly watched the TV as he did so as not to freak him out like they had done on that first night, when he had first tried Doritos.

"How is it?" Mabel asked.

"Creamy," Bill managed to say. "And cold."

Mabel laughed. "Yeah, I guess that's why they call it _ice cream!_ If it was warm maybe they'd call it 'nice cream' instead *****."

They continued to eat in silence, Bill very much enjoying the sugary goodness he'd never been exposed to before and polishing off the bowl before Mabel brought him a second serving. She smiled down at him, glad to see that he was eating and hoping that he'd gain some of his healthy weight back. He had been thin to begin with, but by now even the rounded baby fat on his cheeks that was supposed to accompany childhood had hollowed out and she did not appreciate the weaning adorableness. She wanted the cute pinch-able cheeks back as quickly as possible.

Around eight-thirty Mabel led Bill upstairs, he brushed and showered, and at nine she closed him in his cage, putting his dirty clothes to wash in the laundry room off the main basement.

"Goodnight Bill." He smiled in return, even though he knew that the rest of his night would likely be less than pleasant….

 ***I know** _ **several**_ **people reading who have GOT to get that reference! *wink-wink* Why do these fandoms overlap so often, by the way? It was purely coincidental for me, my friend knew** _ **that-of-which-I-am-referencing**_ **and I knew Gravity Falls and we just kind of swapped afterwards. We'd had no idea at the time that the fandoms had such overlapping fan-bases.**

 ****This sentence legitimately used to read "Bill was created with the scent of hamburgers." O.O I laughed soooooooo hard and started imagining giant, sentient hamburgers being involved in the creation of Bill Cipher. Because, ya know, like I said, hamburgers and chips go so well together. XD**


	22. Chapter 21: Help

**Chapter 21: Help**

 **A/N: Sorry this chapter is a little on the short side. It was this or having 21 and 22 be a single really long chapter, and since I publish so often I decided to just keep it split.**

 **Merry Christmas everyone!**

Stanford worked in his lab late through the night, getting started on the new Journal 4. He bound the pages, counting out the same number as he had for the other three, held within the same red leather, and traced his hand on a golden sheet. He was about to glue it on, but stopped. Instead he pulled out a shiny blue sheet of painted aluminum and cut out the shape of a tree, marking it with a black four before gluing it onto the front of the Journal. Ford could take Journal Three back from Dipper and finish it off, while Dipper could start a Journal of his own. It really was the best option, as far as Ford could discern.

The hours had passed since dinner, and Ford found himself glancing at the clock. As the hour struck 3 AM on Thursday morning, Ford stepped away from his workbench. He picked up an item he'd left nearby and headed for the elevator.

 _'Can't put it off any longer,'_ Ford thought to himself. He tried to, as he called it, "deal with Bill" around two in the morning. Soos could appear at the Shack as early as five on some days, so Ford really couldn't wait any longer without running the risk of Soos finding out about these nightly occurrences.

 _'They wouldn't understand,'_ Ford thought as he opened the door to the basement. _'They don't know what Bill's really like! They're blinded by his childish ways and appearance. I can't ignore the truth, even if everyone else hates me for it. They'll understand though, in time. After all, they're MY family. They couldn't possibly choose Bill Cipher over me.'_

Ford peered down into the cage; glowing golden orbs were peering up at him intensely, black slits penetrating. Ford steeled himself and opened the door, grabbing Bill by the arm as he'd done the night before. Bill didn't struggle, only tensed and jerked back a little at the demanding contact and yanking six-fingered hand.

Bill obediently followed him outside, allowing Ford to lead him by the arm. The entire time Bill's sharp cat-like eyes were on Ford.

 _'See: This is what he's really like,'_ Ford thought to himself. _'Angry, malevolent, and he has all the power he needs to kill us all, locked away somewhere deep inside him.'_ Ford glanced back at the glowing yellow eyes, fire practically burning within them. He could see the unnatural glow and knew it for what it was: It was Bill's power shining through. His small human body couldn't either contain nor hide his true power, even if Bill was currently not in control of it. _'I can't let him fool me too.'_

Ford led Bill away from the Shack, and Bill instantly became much, much more nervous. He glanced back as they exited the clearing around the tourist stop, the woods soon blocking everything man-made from view. Bill's piercing gaze had faltered and fallen; he was squirming and pulling lightly at Ford's grasp in a feeble half-attempt at escape.

 _'He knows that out here I don't have to be as gentle with him. I don't have to be cautious not to wake up the kids: Out here there's nothing to protect him.'_ Ford tightened his left hand's grasp on the right wrist of the now struggling form.

"Wait," Bill said quietly, but Ford would have none of it. He snapped his right hand up and back, slapping Bill and effectively silencing him. Bill watched the ground intently and silently, and Ford was glad to see that he was afraid again. Stanford greatly preferred him to be frightened rather than angry as he had been the night before.

Ford stopped when they'd walked roughly a hundred meters into the forest, far enough away that any of the sounds Bill couldn't hold back wouldn't be heard from the Shack. Ford pulled a rope from his back pocket and approached a nearby tree, pulling Bill along with him. He tossed one end of the rope up and over a branch. He tied one end of the rope to Bill's left wrist and the other to his right, effectively trapping Bill, pinning his hands above his head as he faced the tree.

Bill looked nervously over his left shoulder, peering back at Ford with wide, frightened, questioning eyes. He wanted to ask what Ford was doing, but Bill knew better than to ask questions now. Being in such a defenseless position with Ford behind him made Bill's stomach churn and greatly unsettled him.

Ford stepped back a few feet, Bill still watching him intently, a dark and scared curiosity burning in his eyes. Bill wanted to know what was coming, but he also hoped he never had to find out.

Ford sighed and reached into his inner coat pocket. "If it counts for anything, I wish I didn't have to do this." Ford pulled a whip out of his coat slowly. "I wish you'd never come back."

Bill's eyes widened and he didn't even bother to try and stay quiet anymore. "Wait, no, please! Not that, _please_!"

"Quiet!" Ford demanded. "You keep your mouth shut or it'll have to be worse." He uncoiled the whip, grasping the handle tightly in his six-fingered hold.

Bill ignored his warning. "Why are you doing this?!" Bill struggled, pulling at the ropes and kicking at the tree in an attempt to escape, all the while pleading with Ford. "I didn't DO ANYTHING!"

"That's a lie and you know it!" Ford said, whipping the whip out next to him with a _'crack'_. Bill fell silent, eyes watching the leather strips intently, knowing that soon they'd be striking him, biting into the flash on his back. "You're _**BILL CIPHER**_! Isn't that enough?!" Ford pulled his right hand back, grasping the handle of the whip tightly.

Bill's eyes widened and he tensed, leaning into the tree, trying to put as much distance between himself and Ford as possible.

"Please, _please_!" Tears pooled in Bill's eyes as Ford's hand shot forward. He tensed, expecting the sharp biting of leather cutting through skin to greet him.

Instead two small, colorful blurs rocketed out of a nearby bush. Ford was startled and winded as they slammed into his side, knocking him over before he could follow through with his intent to whip the small form still pinned to a tree before him.

Bill peered back over his shoulder, just as shocked as Stanford, tears still streaming down his reddened cheeks. He recognized the forms that were still tussling with Ford in the dirt. "Jeff, Shmebulock?"

One of the forms broke away from the fight: Jeff rushed closer, scurrying quickly up Bill's side and reaching at the ropes pinning Bill's arms above him, cutting them away with his sharp Gnome teeth. He jumped off of Bill as soon as he was free.

"Bill, hurry, run! We'll hold him off!" Bill hesitated, not exactly knowing where to go, but he hastily snapped out of his stunned state and ran, back towards the Shack. After all, he had nowhere else to go. Tears were still streaming down his cheeks from the fright as Jeff and Shmebulock fought with Ford for a while longer.

"Enough, enough, alright!" Ford finally consented after he felt sharp teeth graze his leg, drawing blood lightly. The Gnomes stopped and hopped back a few feet, but they didn't depart. Ford huffed and stood, dusting himself off.

"Want to explain to me what this is all about?" Ford asked.

Jeff growled. " _Me_? Explain?! What about _you_?! What the _hell_ do you think you're doing, Stanford?!"

"Shmebulock!" The white-bearded Gnome was largely ignored.

"That's none of your business."

"Oh really?" Jeff asked. "Because I'm pretty sure it's plenty enough my business if you decide to bring Bill Cipher out onto MY turf in the middle of the night and try to whip him!"

"I don't see why you'd care!" Ford retorted.

"I already had this conversation with the kids, I don't need to explain to you too." Ford looked confused.

"I guess I'll just have to ask the kids then."

"You do that," Jeff retorted. "And the next time you want to hurt Bill, don't. Not unless he's an immediate threat. If I catch you doing something like this again, hurting him when he's so defenseless, I'll have my entire army on you!" Ford frowned.

"Again, I don't see how that's any of your business." Ford turned and headed back toward the Shack.

….

Bill ran as fast as he could, fleeing the scene behind him. He ran into the Shack and _slammed_ the front door shut.

Mabel and Dipper jolted upright in their beds. They shared a look before jumping out of bed and heading downstairs.

"Bill? Bill, what's wrong?! What's going on?" Mable was startled to find Bill leaning against the front door, tears still streaming down his face, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. Mabel and Dipper ran forward and looked him over. "Bill, what is it? Please tell me!"

Bill shook his head and pushed past them. "I-I'm fine! Just leave me alone!" Dipper reached out to stop him, but Bill jerked his arm from Dipper's light grasp and continued downstairs, shutting the door to the basement forcefully and locking himself back in his cage, curling up under his thick quilt, still trembling from the shock of what had, or had almost, happened. He'd seen what being whipped could do to people, especially to the meat-sacks with bodies as young as the one he was currently in. He'd known Ford was dangerous, that he was capable of cruelty, that he'd easily kill Bill without a second thought, without a moment of hesitation, but Bill hadn't expected him to be capable of using pure torture on him. The prospect was _terrifying_...

….

Stan exited his room and observed silently as Bill pushed past the younger twins. Mabel had tears in her eyes.

"W-what happened?" She wondered aloud.

Dipper shrugged. "I... I don't know. Where's Grunkle Ford?" That question seemed most prominent to Stanley as well.

Stan approached his Great Niece and Nephew, setting a hand on each of their shoulders. "You kids go on back to bed, alright? I'll handle it."

"But, Grunkle Stan, Bill-" Mabel wanted to protest, but he shook his head and smiled down at her.

"It's alright Sweetie, I'll handle it, I promise. I'll look after him." Mabel stayed silent, suppressing the urge to argue.

"C'mon Mabel, let's just go back upstairs..." Dipper knew where this was going, and Grunkle Stan was right. They needed to give Stan a chance to deal with Ford, if he was the cause of all of this. That was really the best explanation: How else would Bill have gotten out of his cage? Grunkle Ford had to be responsible, and as his brother, it was Stanley who was best fit to deal with him.

Dipper led Mabel back upstairs; he handed her Waddles and she clutched the pink animal to her chest, sitting up in her bed, not even trying to go to sleep. Dipper sat on her bed next to her, a silent comfort to ease her worry.

 **A/N: Yeah, I thought it would be just a little** _ **too**_ **extreme to have Ford actually whip Bill. I do still consider this story to be T-Rated, so whipping was kind of out of the question, especially with my notoriously descriptive horror scenes! Plus** _ **Bill.**_ **I love Bill, and despite the fact that I seem to enjoy torturing my favorite characters, I'm not** _ **that**_ **horrible. So, um, Merry Christmas Bill, at least I didn't have you whipped? Sorry little buddy! (And yes, I do, apparently, talk to Bill now. But not really. Haha.)**

 **The reference in the last chapter was to a game called Undertale, for anyone who didn't get it. ;3**


	23. Chapter 22: The Truth Is

**Chapter 22: The Truth Is**

Stan first ventured downstairs. Bill was in his cage, sobbing quietly. He tensed when he heard someone entering the room.

"It's alright, I'm not here to hurt you. It's Stan, not Ford." Bill quieted a little as he realized he wasn't in immediate danger. Stan opened the cage door and knelt down inside, next to the wrapped up figure.

"I know," Bill said quietly, "I shouldn't-shouldn't be c-crying," he sobbed quietly again.

"Did he hurt you?"

Bill shook his head. "N-no. I'm just-just... I'm _scared._ And I don't know how to _not_ be scared…." Stan scowled and nodded in sympathy.

"What'd he do?" Stan was by now certain that his brother was the one responsible for Bill's disturbed state.

"He was going to whip me."

"Did he?"

Again Bill shook his head, his sobbs quieting. "N-no."

Stan nodded. "Good. I... I'll deal with Stanford. I promise." Bill peered out at him from under the covers.

"Will you really?" He sounded highly skeptical.

Stanley nodded. "I will."

"If I could hurt him right now I would," Bill said truthfully. He shivered, but persisted. "I'd _kill him._ "

Stan sighed, easily picking up on the anger. Stanley was old and, despite what some people might believe, wise. He knew where Bill was coming from: Hell, Stanley had been there a few times himself.

"I know what you mean, Cipher," Stan said. "Even if _you_ don't understand. You said it yourself, you're scared. And sometimes, when people get scared they get angry too. You're frightened and furious and maybe there are some other emotions you don't know how to describe mixed in there too. You'll learn how to deal with it, but until then I'll remind my brother that he's too old to be letting his emotions rule him like this." Bill looked confused as he watched Stan pat him lightly on the back and stand, re-locking the cage door as he went and placing the key on its usual tabletop.

Stan heard the front door close up above him as he exited the basement. He strode towards the front of the Shack.

"Stanford," he greeted calmly.

"Stanley," Ford responded. "I see he woke you."

"And the kids," Stan supplied. Ford grimaced.

"Of course. Bill Cipher doesn't know the meaning of the word 'quiet'."

"I wouldn't say that," Stan argued. "Besides, he didn't look ta be in the best state of mind. He said you were gonna whip him. Can I ask why?"

Ford pushed past him on the way downstairs. "No."

"C'mon Ford, tell me what's goin' on!" They stopped outside of the door to Ford's bedroom, not even bothering to glance at the silent figure curled up in the nearby cage. Bill was quiet and still, his eyes peering intently through the darkness at them, hoping that he wouldn't end up directly involved in the conversation they were having.

"Look Stanley, I know more about that _demon_ than you likely ever will! I'm the one who's had to deal with him!"

"Hey, I dealt with him too! I almost lost all of my memories tryin' to defeat that thing!" Bill winced imperceptibly. "But that's in the past, he's here now, and he's clearly not what we always thought he was."

"What, you mean he's not a demon of nightmares and destruction Stanley? Because he still is! Even if he can't use his powers, if he's defenseless, he's still what he's always been! And you know what else he still is? He's a master of deception!"

"Yeah, and the kids told me ALL about it! He really has got you fooled, hasn't he Ford?" Stanford blanched.

"Me? He has _me_ fooled?! Are you insane?!" Stan laughed lightly, the air tense.

"Not everything's so black-and-white Stanford. He wants you to think it is, that he's the big, horrible demon you should fear, but the kids and I really aren't so sure."

"And who told you this? Bill? You believed him when he told you that he's just some poor defenseless eight-year-old?"

Stan shook his head. "Nope. Bill would never admit to anything." They turned and looked down at him. Bill curled in under the covers more self-consciously. Since when had Stanley become so knowledgeable? When had he uncovered so many of his deepest secrets? What sources did he have? When had the children gained such information?

"Look Ford," Stan rested a hand on his twin's shoulder, "just promise me you won't hurt him again tonight. We can talk about this more in the morning, alright?" Ford glared down at Bill.

"No promises, Stan." Ford entered his bedroom and slammed the door.

"Don't worry, we'll stay with him tonight," Dipper said. Stan turned and realized that the children had at some point snuck down to the basement and had listened in on their conversation.

Stan sighed. "Alright, fine. No point tryin' ta stop you anyway, is there?" Mable and Dipper both shook their heads furiously, a bright smile lighting Mabel's face.

"Goodnight Grunkle Stan," they both said as Stan waved and passed them on the way up the stairs.

Mabel and Dipper shared a look, Bill observing them from his cage, wondering what they were thinking. They nodded as if they'd just come to a silent agreement and unlocked Bill's cage, leaving the door open and once again sitting on the floor on either side of him, just as they had done a few short nights back.

Bill looked at them somewhat incredulously as Mabel hugged him around the neck and leant back against the cage bars, wiping the dry tear streaks from his cheeks with her light blue smiley-face sweater's sleeve. She closed her eyes, Dipper also relaxing on the other side of him, both of them appearing to be trying to rest.

"You're going to sleep here?" Bill asked, startled.

Dipper chuckled lightly. "Yup."

"Aren't you worried I'll kill you in your sleep? Or escape?" Mabel shook her head and Dipper responded verbally.

"Nope, not worried about it."

"Why _not?_ "

"Well, for starters, you could have run away earlier when Ford had you outside; when you got away from him you came back here instead of fleeing into the forest or towards town, so I assume that either you have absolutely nowhere else to go or there's nowhere you'd rather be more that you have access to. I don't think you'll run away."

Bill frowned. "And what about killing you in your sleep?"

"Drop the act Bill," Mabel spoke up, her eyes still closed and breathing relaxed, looking as if she were asleep. "We already know."

"Know what?"

"Jeff told us," Dipper filled in. "You're not the bad guy you want everyone to believe."

"I tried to destroy your town!"

"I'm sure you had your reasons. Of course your judgment is _terrible_ so what you thought was a good reason was probably still not nearly good enough."

Bill blanched. "So what? You're just going to assume that I'm not a villain?"

"You do bad things sometimes, but nah, you're alright," Dipper insisted.

 _"And how would you know?!"_ Bill asked in a harsh whisper.

"Jeff told us," Mabel whispered calmly. Bill paled.

"Did not!"

"Did tooo~!" Mabel replied in a quiet sing-song voice.

"He's lying."

"I don't think so."

"What exactly did he tell you?"

"Everything."

"….I doubt that..." Mabel laughed.

"Listen Bill," Dipper said, "we know you're still kind of a jerk most of the time, but you can't help it can you? And I think you've begun to realize that, in this body, you're not as restricted as you used to be."

"Not as restricted...? What does that even mean?! I can't even defend myself! How is that _less_ restrictive than how I was before?"

"He just means you're free to be you," Mabel clarified. "You're not limited to being the dream demon of destruction you were created to be. You have more emotions, clearly."

Bill grumbled. "Yeah, okay, fine. Just don't let Ford catch you saying things like that."

"We're telling him tomorrow."

"WHAT?!"

"Relax Bill," Mabel hugged him slightly tighter. "We'll protect you. I've made up my mind: We're going to free you from who you were made to be. We're gonna help you be good. You won't have to be bad anymore."

Bill laughed, a sad smile on his face. "Dearest Shooting Star, did Jeff not also tell you that the world needs someone like me? Even if you can help me change who I am, someone else will have to take my place. Besides, your lot hardly has the power to change me. My very soul was written into the Universe to be evil and destructive. The only way in all of my time that I've uncovered for changing the nature of a soul is Weirdmageddon. I thought that if I controlled reality itself I could change my nature, but I didn't exactly get the chance to test it out."

Dipper popped his eyes open, startled. "That's why you started Weirdmageddon?! To try and change who, or what, you are?" Bill looked away and nodded minutely.

"Well... Y-yes, that's why. I come from the second dimension you know. I burned the whole place down because of what I am. I thought that if I could control everything up to through the fourth dimension and time itself I could not only restore my own dimension, but that perhaps I could also change myself. In that regard, I stopped caring about the bad things I did. Even if I killed everyone, if my plan succeeded I'd be able to bring them back. I'd control the very nature of souls."

"But you still didn't kill us," Mabel interjected, a sleepy yawn escaping her. "Just in case you didn't succeed?"

Bill smirked softly. "I suppose. Between us three, I don't always exactly _plan everything out._ Planning I certainly do, but not very meticulously. I'm really just not one for such careful evaluation. I like to deal with problems as they approach me, and to be fair, there aren't many situations that can arise that I can't handle. The Pines family is a rather large exception; with you, anything could happen. It's terrifying."

"Well, if anything can happen then you have to agree that maybe we can help you." Mabel yawned again.

"Alright, fine, I'll consent for tonight. Just go to sleep."

Mabel nodded. "Night Dipper, night Bill."

Two overlapping "goodnight"s were given in response and the trio slept peacefully on the cage floor.

 **A/N: I love virgin Piña Coladas…. Okay, fine, it's not virgin….. And it has a shot of Vodka…. Two shots…. Hehe, yeaaaahhh, but it's so good! XD *police lights flash* "I swear to drunk officer that I am NOT God!" *giggles madly***

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing! For those who have forgotten, I think Wendy is due for an appearance, don't you agree? Next chapter, promise! X3**


	24. Chapter 23: The Other Thing

**Chapter 23: The Other Thing**

When Bill awoke in the morning, he was pleasantly surprised to see that both Mabel and Dipper were still there in the cage with him. Mabel was still hugging him around the neck, but at some point she had begun to drool, resulting in Bill's shirt being soaked in saliva from the shoulder to the lower ribs. He grimaced at the stickiness.

Dipper, who had been sitting a good foot away beforehand, was now slouched over far enough that his head was resting in Bill's lap. The yellow-eyed demon had to suppress his laughter in an attempt not to awaken the young teens.

As tended to happen, the twins were soon stirring anyway. The human body had a funny way of sensing when someone around was awake, and could naturally tell when the body next to it was tensing with alertness. It hardly ever happened that when one person woke up, the others didn't soon follow.

Mabel was the first twin who was truly awake, her being the morning person that she was. She yawned and stretched, and noticed the predicament Bill had found himself in. She gushed.

"Awww, Dipping-Dot fell asleep on you!" She squished her cheeks in a very girly manner. Dipper moaned as her voice aroused him further.

Bill smirked a somewhat devilish smirk and, without better judgment, decided on a course of action. Bill positioned his hands underneath him on either side and placed his feet firmly on the ground.

"What are you-?" Before Mabel could finish, Bill had slid himself sideways out from underneath Dipper, dropping his head to the cover-padded floor. Dipper was instantly alert, though still groggy, jumping to his feet before tripping on the tangle of blankets in the tightly enclosed space. He ended up slumping back to the ground, sliding face-first down the metal bars of the cage with his legs tangled in the mess of blankets.

Bill laughed and Dipper grumbled grumpily. "Last time I sleep around you..." So quickly after waking up, Dipper's sense of humor was less than on-point.

Mabel giggled lightly. "When your pranks aren't life-threatening, they're actually pretty funny," Mabel said, slipping the camera she carried with her at all times out of her sweater sleeve and snapping a photo of Dipper with his face still comically smooshed against the bars, Bill still looking mischievously pleased in the background of the photo. "This one's goin' in the scrapbook!"

"Aww, Mabel, _don't_ ~" Dipper complained. "Don't you think you have enough embarrassing photos of me already?"

"Never!" Mabel exclaimed.

"And I've seen every one, Pine Tree," Bill leant down and whispered with a knowing grin. "I must say, the 'Lamby Lamby Dance' is _not_ the worst of it. I rather liked the one with the chicken."

Dipper turned and looked up at him. "No, not _that_!" Dipper groaned. "I freaking _hate_ chickens..."

Bill chuckled. "I imagine so. Being a toddler and having a chicken with its head cut off unknowingly chase you around must have been horrifying... but it's also hilarious."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "That chicken scared the hell out of me." He looked at Mabel. "How'd you even get that photo? You were a toddler back then too..."

"Grandma gave it to me!"

"Of course she did..." Everyone knew that, of all the people in the family, Mabel and their Grandmother had the most in common. It had been their Grandmother who had taught Mabel how to sew sweaters, a pastime that Mabel would later spend hours upon hours committing to. She had also started Mabel on scrapbooking. "Well, we should head up to breakfast now." Bill tensed.

"It's alright," Mabel soothed him. "We'll be there with you."

"I still don't know how you can be so sure about me. Even _I'm_ not sure! I still feel like the evil triangle guy, so I've no idea why you think otherwise."

"It's all in the evidence," Dipper supplied. "Now come on." Bill sighed but nodded and followed them up to the kitchen, where Stanley was setting out a decent sized plate of Stancakes. Ford was there too, sitting at the kitchen table.

"Grunkle Ford," Dipper greeted.

"So I take it you've let Bill fool you too," Ford commented. "I have to admit Dipper, I'm disappointed. I thought that surely at least you wouldn't be blinded by his tricks."

Dipper scoffed humorlessly. He still looked up to Ford, and hearing that his mentor was disappointed in him hurt, but Dipper wanted to prove Ford wrong and he couldn't do that while idolizing the man's every word, now could he?

"He's been fooling all of us this entire time," Dipper clarified as everyone sat down at the table, Dipper, Mabel, and Bill sitting across from Ford while Stanley took a seat next to his twin, just in case Ford tried to get physical during breakfast.

"Yes, I know he's been tricking you, Dipper."

"That's not what I meant," Dipper began, "there's real evidence that Bill isn't what we thought he was. He's not so bad. For starters, he's never killed any of us."

Ford raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "So what? It's not for lack of trying." Bill laughed quietly and Ford glared at him, instantly silencing the blonde. "What's so funny, Cipher?"

"He's explained it to us before," Mabel interrupted. "If he'd wanted to kill us, he easily could have." She took a bite of pancake.

Dipper nodded. "Didn't it ever strike you as weird, Grunkle Ford? That in the whole week Bill had ultimate control over Gravity Falls, not a single person died? He didn't kill _anyone_?" Ford frowned.

"And you want me to believe that he didn't kill anyone because he's secretly a good guy?"

"Not exactly a _good guy_ ," Mabel said, "he's just not as bad as you think he is." Ford rolled his eyes.

"We know just explaining it to you won't help," Stan interjected. "We'll just let you figure it out on your own, in time. You've always been slow on the uptake, Ford." Stanford glared at his twin. "We just need you to promise that you won't go hurtin' Bill no more."

Ford scowled. "Everyone seems to think that hurting Bill Cipher is a bad thing."

"It is," Mabel clarified. "Even if you don't think so Grunkle Ford. Just, please, promise us you won't hurt him anymore, okay?" Ford looked down at his Great Niece.

 _'It won't do either me nor the children any good to continue punishing him while the others are so convinced that I'm the one in the wrong.'_ Ford sighed and nodded.

"Fine, I'll leave him be, for now..."

"Great!" Mabel said. "That just leaves the other thing!"

"What other thing?" Bill and Ford asked simultaneously.

Mabel grinned so widely that Bill was sure it could be seen from outer space, and it made him extremely uncomfortable and nervous to behold it. "You two are going to work together in Grunkle Ford's lab."

"WHAT?!"

"You can't be serious, Mabel!"

"Do you _want_ me to die?!"

"There's no way I'm working with that _thing_!"

"Confined, alone, in a basement, where any 'accident' could be the death of me?!"

"Quiet!" Dipper demanded and Bill, feeling obligated to obey any orders while Stanford was in the room, instantly fell silent. Ford wasn't as easily hushed.

"Dipper, you know this isn't going to work," Ford reasoned. "This whole 'locking-two-people-in-a-room-until-they-get-along' scheme not only has a high failure rate, but it's also extremely dangerous! Bill's right; in the lab anything could happen! He could just as easily cause something to malfunction and kill me as I could purposefully stage an accident that kills him!"

"Grunkle Ford, look," Dipper began, "we know this isn't going to make you happy, or to please Bill, at least not at first, but Mabes, Stan and I discussed it and we think this could really work out! Solve our problems! You and I bonded over scientific adventures, and you should know better than anyone that Bill Cipher isn't an idiot. He's helped you in the past with creating things-"

"But he's never physically been there!" Ford interrupted. Dipper held up a hand to silence him, which Ford reluctantly obeyed, rolling his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and leaning back in the chair as he fell silent, pointedly looking off to the side, away from his Great Nephew.

"He'll know how things work, he can help you, and the more he does the more you'll start to appreciate him. As for the whole staging-deadly-accidents thing, you and Bill are both knowledgeable and keen-eyed enough to recognize when something's been tampered with. Bill, for example, will know better if you tell him to mix together two chemicals that explode, and I'm sure you can manage to keep an eye on him so he won't tamper with any of the equipment or something."

Ford finally looked back at Dipper. There was a certain logic to his reasoning, but that didn't mean that Ford wanted to 'hang-out' with _Bill Cipher_. If Ford was forced into doing this, he'd make sure Bill was more miserable than Stanford himself throughout the whole ordeal. After all, Ford only had to deal with it until the kids realized that this wouldn't work out.

Bill looked nervous; like he wanted to say something but knew he shouldn't speak up while Ford was in the room. Stan could guess what he was thinking though and added in "We'll be checking Bill over daily to make sure you don't hurt him while he's down there with you." Ford rolled his eyes.

"I already promised I wouldn't hurt him, didn't I?"

"Well it's good to know that that still stands," Mabel said with a smile. Ford grunted and stood.

"I'll be down in the lab putting some of my more dangerous equipment away, and by that I mean I'll be putting it up, out of a short person's reach." He grinned smugly at Bill, who pointedly looked away and kept a neutral face on, though inside he was slightly seething at Ford's remark.

"Oh, one other thing," Ford said, "give me Journal Three back."

Dipper frowned nervously. Was his Grunkle Ford revoking his co-authorship of the Journals over this?! If that was the case, Dipper would be crushed, but he set a hard look of determination on his face and pulled out Journal Number Three, reluctantly handing it over to his Grunkle Ford. If that was how his Grunkle wanted to play, then fine, Dipper wouldn't complain or give in.

Stanford pocketed Journal Three, Dipper looking down at the table, away from his Grunkle Ford, appearing to be thoroughly dejected. Bill almost wanted to say something, to convince Ford not to take it out on Dipper, but there was no way in _hell_ he was going to start arguing with Ford at the kitchen table; he was much too chicken for that...

Ford pocketed the Journal, and while his hand was still in his coat he picked up something else. He tossed it in Dipper's direction, startling the boy and making him fumble with it for a moment before securing it in his grasp. "What's this?" He turned the leather-bound book over, revealing on the cover the blue shiny tree with a black four painted over it. "A-a Journal?"

"I changed my mind last night," Ford said, "and decided that I'd finish up Journal Number Three myself and you can start on Journal Four." Dipper smiled and looked up at his Grunkle. "Bill Cipher may be wrecking havoc in his own special way," Ford said, glaring at Bill for a moment before looking back at Dipper and smiling, "but at the end of the day we're family, and you're still my number-one assistant and co-author. Don't forget that, alright?" Dipper nodded and Ford departed.

With Ford gone the tension in the room lessened dramatically, and it left Dipper wondering if Bill was subconsciously using his powers to effect the atmosphere of the room. After all, Dipper himself didn't have much reason to be tense around Ford, especially not at the moment, nor did Mabel or Stan. It's reasonable for the air to tense up with the anger between Ford and Bill lingering, but Dipper had the distinct feeling that the air had been even tighter than it logically should have been.

 _'If my instincts are telling me it's because of Bill's powers, than it's probably because of Bill's powers,'_ Dipper decided, opening his new Journal, the pages crispy-fresh and clear. He titled the first page with " Bill Cipher" once more. _'He IS the most interesting thing we have to write about, and he may or may not be integral to the weirdness in Gravity Falls.'_ Both Journals Two and Three already had two separate passages on Bill, and Three had a second separate passage on his new human form. What was one more extensive passage in Journal Number Four? Besides, they seemed to learn something new about Bill and his capabilities every day, not to mention the crazy interactions and relationships he seemed to have with the other creatures in Gravity Falls, if the Gnomes were anything to go by.

They polished off breakfast, Mabel smothering her Stancakes in today's chosen sprinkle-color, hot pink, and scarfing them down. Dipper absentmindedly nibbled on his and, only once it looked like Mabel was about finished with hers, swallowed them down quickly and with hardly any chewing, setting his new Journal aside so that he wouldn't get sticky syrup on the pages. Stan had served Bill's pancakes with two scoops of vanilla ice-cream to top the stack and Mabel had of course added a moderate amount of yellow sprinkles to Bill's plate, making sure not to dump too many on the meal for fear of turning Bill away from eating his breakfast. Bill ate only the majority of one of the two Stancakes, but did at least manage to finish the two scoops of ice-cream. The cool and creamy frozen dessert seemed to unsettle his stomach, but he enjoyed it enough to push through.

The group migrated to the front of the Shack and opened up the gift shop, the clock on the wall reading almost nine in the morning. Before ten a couple of families had come and gone, and the shop was reasonably quiet and calm. Well, as quiet and calm as a place could be with Soos and Mabel in the same room.

"I dare you to... do a handstand!" Soos said, pointing at the rambunctious thirteen-year-old. She giggled.

"No sweat, I can totally do a handstand!" She lifted her hands and dove at the ground head-first, as if this would be just like walking up-side-down. She kicked her legs up off the floor and within moments was vertically straight up-side-down... and then she was quickly tipping past the vertical line, falling flat on her back on the wooden floor. "See! I totally did it!"

Soos nodded in approval. "True, true, great stuff right there! You could be in a circus!"

Both Bill and Dipper rolled their eyes, Dipper quickly returning to filling in some of the bare-minimum info on Bill in his Journal and adding some of the things he'd yet to write down about Bill's interactions with the spirits of Gravity Falls.

Bill was leaning on his hand, his elbow propped up on the wooden countertop next to the cash register, looking entirely bored. "That was no handstand, Shooting Star."

"Phsssh, whatever!" Mabel said, flipping her hand dismissively. "I can do somersaults, so I must be able to do handstands too!"

"Not necessarily," Bill argued somewhat arrogantly, "handstands require balance whereas somersaults rely less on balance and more on control of momentum."

"Oh yeah?" Mabel smiled. "Then why don't you do a handstand!"

Bill blanched. "What? N-no, no thank you! I'm hardly used to having a human body, I couldn't possibly-"

"Oh, come on! You can at least try!" Mabel walked up behind the cash register, pulling him lightly by the arm out from behind the counter and into the more open area of the room.

"This is a horrible idea," Bill argued. "I couldn't possibly... I'll just fall over and..." Dipper smirked, looking up from the Journal.

"C'mon Bill: Just like Mabes said, you can at least try it!" He shut the Journal and pocketed it, walking up and standing near the other three occupants of the room, Stan being outside currently directing a tour group. "Who knows, maybe you'll actually pull it off, Mr. 'It's-all-about-balance'!"

Bill shook his head. "I am really quite certain that I will not succeed."

Soos shrugged. "And so what if you don't?" He asked. "You know what they say: If you never try you can never succeed!"

"They also say never try never fail," Bill responded quietly, sensing that he was losing this little argument. Soos clapped him on the back, making his small form wince, though Soos didn't appear to notice.

"C'mon little dude, just do it!" Dipper groaned and Bill sighed in defeat.

 _'This is going to be highly embarrassing,'_ Bill thought. Though he couldn't foresee the future, he had a strong feeling that this was going to result in some item from the shop getting broken and possibly a peeved Stanley. However, he'd practically already given in, and he'd been ordered by not one but three people now to do it so, by the terms of their deal, he had to do a handstand.

With a final frustrated and somewhat pouty sigh he slowly stuck his arms out in front of him before placing his hands on the ground. On the count of three, he kicked his legs up, trying to gauge exactly how much force he should use in pushing off of the ground so that he wouldn't topple over onto his back like Mabel had, or be lacking in force and not end up vertically stretched.

His legs came up, he was vertical... and it held. Everyone's eyes widened.

"Woah!" Mabel said.

"You're-you're actually doing it," Dipper commented, sounding clearly surprised.

Bill's body was trembling slightly in the effort of remaining vertical and supporting his light weight on his thin arms. His own eyes were wide as he peered up at the three standing before him from where his head hung from his shoulders a little ways off the ground. "I have no idea how this is working..."

Dipper hummed. "I wonder if your powers are influencing you..." Bill shrugged, the motion almost making him fall over, his body wiggling a little in the air in an effort to regain his balance, which he barely managed to pull off. Once he was once again perfectly vertical he looked back up at Dipper.

"I don't know. Maybe. I get the feeling that, perhaps, it's because I was told to do a handstand. We did sort-of make a deal when your lot agreed to let me stay here and I conceded to following your orders for the duration of my time here."

Dipper smiled. "You think maybe you can only use your powers if we tell you to?" He grinned and lifted a snow-globe off a nearby shelf, resting it on an outstretched palm. "Bill, levitate this!"

Bill glared at him for the demand, but rolled his eyes and, still in a handstand, focused on trying to levitate the snow-globe.

….Nothing happened.

"Well, I guess that theory is out," Dipper said, placing the snow-globe back on its shelf.

"Maybe I can only do as I'm told within the physical limits of this body's capabilities," Bill commented.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"Woah, nice handstand." A voice near the front door of the Shack sounded.

 **A/N:** **Here's a short play for you guys to express my feelings about updating:**

 **Readers : Why haven't you updated? Please update!**

 **Author: I don't care! I write what I want, when I want!**

 **Readers: If that's true then why are you crying?**

 **Author: I'm not crying! I've just got something in my eye!**

 **Readers: What've you got in your eye?**

 **Author: TEARS! _(The author proceeds to sob and run screaming from the room.)_**

 **THE END**


	25. Chapter 24: Wendy

**Chapter 24: Wendy**

 **A/N: You guys know that I got a new laptop like a month ago right? Well, I'll tell you, I was writing this chapter, and while I was writing it my laptop** _ **scared me.**_ **I went to press a key and my fingers slipped and I ended up pressing F5. I did not know this, but apparently if you press F5 on my laptop the keyboard lights up underneath. Now, that's freaking AWESOME, and I love it because it makes writing in the dark much easier and it looks cool, but it scared me half to death when bright white light suddenly sprang up beneath my fingertips. I almost dropped the laptop. Haha, yeah, and that's my dumb story….**

 _Previously:_

 _"Woah, nice handstand." A voice near the front door of the Shack sounded._

 _'I know that voice,'_ Bill thought and panic instantly set in. Bill Cipher knew of Wendy, of course he did. She was the 'Ice Queen' on his Zodiac, the crazy axe-wielding chick who didn't mind getting her hands dirty or, if the situation called for it, a bit bloody. Knowing that she was here and would soon be told who he was sent a jolt of fear through him and the sheer surprise caused him to topple over.

He groaned quietly at the slight ache in his muscles and the jarring that falling over had caused to his thin frame. He rubbed the back of his head where he'd knocked it against the wooden floor, a dull thudding starting up behind his temple. It was nothing he couldn't handle; he had much bigger problems at the moment.

"Hey, sorry, didn't mean to startle you," she said calmly, offering a hand to the child on the floor. To Wendy's surprise, instead of taking it he stared up at her with large, fearful, golden eyes before scrambling back away from her, standing on his own, and hiding behind Mabel. He didn't exactly cower in fear behind the sweater-clad girl, but it was clear that he was trying to put a wall between himself and Wendy as he stood behind and just slightly to the right of Mabel, peering at Wendy from above and behind Mabel's left shoulder. His lips were set into a tight, nervous line.

Wendy's eyes widened and she put her hands up in a surrendering gesture. _'What the hell?'_ She wondered. _'Why is this young kid so terrified? Has something happened to him?'_ Looking more closely, she could see light bruising on his upper arms, beneath the sleeve of his yellow T-shirt.

Mabel turned and looked at Bill, confused by his reaction. "What's the matter?" She asked, loud enough for everyone to hear her.

Bill glanced back and forth between Mabel and Wendy before leaning closer and whispering to Mabel: "She might not exactly be happy to see me, Shooting Star. Once she knows who I am…. I know she can be a bit _violent_ at times."

Mabel opened her mouth into a silent "oh".

Deciding to just give the strange kid some space, Wendy turned to Dipper. She smirked and yanked her hat off his head before pulling his blue-and-white cap off her own red hair and slapping it down on his brown mop, the cap sitting lop-sided on Dipper's head. Dipper laughed.

"And balance has been restored," Wendy said with a smirk, leaning on Dipper's shoulder. "Did you get shorter bro?" Again Dipper laughed.

"C'mon Wendy, you know I've grown a couple inches." He smiled up at her. _'Still in love,'_ he noted helplessly as he watched her shoulders bounce in soft laughter.

"I think Mabel grew more," Wendy objected and, sure enough, it had to be noted that Mabel was now almost an inch taller than Dipper was. "That's okay though. Girls hit their growth spurt earlier than guys do, you know," she told Dipper. He nodded his understanding.

"Yeah, I know. And it's fine, I don't mind being shorter than her anymore. I mean, I've been shorter than her for, what, a year already? Water under the bridge," he said.

Wendy chuckled. "And are you going to introduce me to the new little guy?" Wendy asked, smiling widely at Bill, who in return frowned more deeply. Wendy hadn't a clue as to why he would become _more_ frightened by her _smiling_ at him.

"Riiiight," Dipper said, "about that….. Actually, _before_ that, you have to make a promise."

Wendy raised an eyebrow. "A promise?"

Mabel nodded, injecting herself into the conversation, Bill still hiding behind her, though he would later deny it. "You have to promise not to freak out," Mabel said.

Wendy nodded slowly, still smiling but also looking confused, her hand on her hip. "Okaaay…."

Dipper cleared his throat. "Alright then. Ehh, Wendy, this is Bill…."

Wendy looked at the petite boy. "Okay then, well, nice to meet you, Bill. I'm Wendy!" She did a cool mini two-fingered salute in greeting.

Bill's shoulders slumped a little in exasperation. "Uhm, we've met before…."

"Oh? I…. Don't think so…." Wendy looked confused.

Dipper face-palmed. "Okay, let me rephrase: Wendy, this is Bill _Cipher_." Wendy looked at the blond again and scoffed.

"Yeah, right, okay. And I'm a talking cloud *****." Wendy rolled her eyes. She looked at Bill. He stared back. Nobody spoke, instead just deciding to wait until she caught on. She was a smart girl; now that she knew what to look for, she'd realize the truth soon enough.

Bill shifted nervously behind Mabel as Wendy stared at him, his eyes glancing quickly to each Soos, Dipper, and Mabel before returning to Wendy's gaze and holding it.

Wendy's eyes widened when she realized that his pupils were elongated into slits. Her mouth hung open a bit. "Holly crud, you aren't kidding," she realized, glancing to Dipper before returning her stare to Bill. "That's actually Bill Cipher?!"

"Yeah, yeah, but it's totally cool, dude," Soos interrupted. "He's kinda part of the family now."

From this, Wendy could only come to one logical conclusion: Bill was using his powers to effect reality or brainwash them or something. She growled and leapt at him, grabbing a snow-globe off of a nearby shelf. Mabel was shoved to the side and before anyone could do anything, she had Bill pinned to the wooden floor, glass snow-globe raised above her head and ready to be bashed against his head. Knowing that this could cause some very real damage, Bill's eyes widened in fear and he trembled involuntarily.

"Tell me what you did to them you sick bastard!" She demanded, raising the snow-globe a bit more as a threat. Soos and Dipper quickly latched onto the arm holding the glass globe so that she couldn't bring it down on him and Mabel knelt down on the floor, throwing her arms between the two and trying to separate them. Bill forced himself not to cry out as the pressure Wendy was applying with her left forearm down on him caused pain in bruised regions, his head throbbing from when she had tackled him backwards to the ground.

"Wendy, stop, it's okay! He's not dangerous right now!" Mabel quickly insisted. Wendy hardly glanced at her, instead attempting to wretch her arm out of Dipper's and Soos' grasp. Realizing it was useless, she stopped struggling, but didn't get off of Bill.

"What are you doing to them Bill?" She asked with a forced calmness.

"He isn't doing anything," Dipper insisted. "He doesn't have his powers!" Wendy looked at him, searching his eyes for any sign that he wasn't fully the Dipper that she knew. "Just, give me a chance to explain. Please? You promised not to freak out…."

Wendy sighed. "Fine," she conceded, standing and backing away from the small blond on the floor, her eyes never leaving him as she leant against a shelf and crossed her arms.

Dipper held his hands up in front of him as if unsure of whether or not she would pounce again, stepping slightly in front of Bill as Mabel helped him up off of the floor. "Bill was given a human body by a powerful being called The Axolotl," Dipper began.

"He was sent here so we could help teach him about emotions and being human and stuff," Mabel added. "He can't use his powers. He's more-or-less harmless at the moment."

"Actually, turns out he's pretty cool," Soos said excitedly. "He knows lots of cool things about Gravity Falls! And he can do a pretty rad-tastic hand-stand, as you just observed," he said happily. "Plus he's freakin' adorable!"

Wendy looked at him: Bill was staring side-long at the wall, pointedly not moving or looking at anyone, remaining completely motionless. He was cute, only about eight years old by appearance, but Wendy also couldn't help but notice once again the same things she had noticed when she first looked at him…. He was thin, too thin, and bruised up. He had bags under his eyes, and a fear in his golden orbs that she never would have expected to see in Bill Cipher. He was pale, almost translucently so, and she could just barely detect the shadow of a painful grimace on his face, though it was well hidden by a blank expression.

"Yeah, cute, but also not looking so hot. What happened to him?" Wendy raised an eyebrow in inquiry. At this Bill finally stopped staring at the wall, his eyes flicking to hers, but he didn't speak. Instead it was Mabel who grimaced and responded.

"We've…. Had some difficulties adjusting to him being here. Grunkle Ford especially hasn't been too pleased by his presence." Mabel sounded sad, Wendy realized, and somewhat guilty, which confused Wendy even further. She figured she understood what Mabel was saying though: Stanford Pines must have been hard on Bill, but Wendy wasn't sure yet that she could blame him for it. "We're getting it sorted out," Mabel concluded.

"If you give him a chance," Dipper said, "I think you'll understand why we're letting him stay here. You don't have to trust him, of course. Just…. Don't…. Lash out at him. Please," he asked uncertainly.

Wendy looked at Dipper, back to Bill, and towards Dipper once more before nodding. "Alright Dipper," she said with a sigh, "I can be cool. I'm the queen of cool, so sure, I'll play along for a while. But if he hurts any of you, all bets are off," she clarified.

"Yeah, of course!" Dipper nodded. "We've already established some rules for him. Things like he can't hurt anyone, he has to do what we say, he has to answer any questions we ask him truthfully, stuff like that."

"He has to do everything we tell him to do? Does that include, like, _anything_? Does he actually follow that rule?"

Mabel frowned as she remembered Ford's lesson. "Yeah, with the exception that he can't hurt anyone even if he's told to. Grunkle Ford already tested to see if Bill would really do anything we told him to do by making him cut himself…."

Wendy's eyebrows shot up. "Yikes, harsh: I was thinking more along the lines of clean-the-bathroom-with-a-toothbrush. And he actually did it; he cut himself?"

Dipper nodded. "A good five-inch gash, yeah." Wendy nodded seriously before a grin flashed across her face.

"Bill, go get me a soda!" She demanded. Bill stared at her for a second before silently walking out of the room, heading towards the kitchen. While he was out of the room, Wendy asked: "Is he always that quiet? Bill Cipher always struck me as such a boisterous guy…. Triangle…. Thing…."

Dipper shook his head. "No, he's only that quiet when he's scared or nervous or something, so pretty much any time Ford is in the room. If you're nice to him he'll loosen up around you a bit." Wendy hummed, not sure yet if she wanted to be anything near nice to the demon.

"And he's chill around you? You're nice to him?" She asked.

"Of course!" Mabel responded. "It doesn't help to kick a guy while he's down, and now that he's in a human body Bill seems to be a lot nicer and he's more like a person than a dream demon."

"Besides," Dipper added, "because we were nice to him he was willing to share with us a ton of cool information about Gravity Falls. We've learnt a lot and have added a bunch to the Journals!" At this time, Bill returned with a Pitt Soda in hand. He handed it to Wendy, who snatched it up happily.

"Sweet, thanks!" She said as she popped it open, the beverage instantly fizzing. Bill kept his face mostly neutral, but a slightly surprised expression overcame him as he returned to Mabel's side. He hadn't expected her to thank him in the slightest.

Wendy took a long draw from her soda. "Alright, you've convinced me. I'll act like it's normal for there to be a psycho demon walking around the place, as long as nothing apocalyptic happens…. Again…." She picked up a magazine and sat down at the chair behind the cash register.

' _Oh, right,'_ Bill reminded himself, _'now that she's here I won't be manning the register anymore. Instead I'll be downstairs with….'_ Bill frowned, not looking forward to his new assignment. _'Wonder when Ford will come up for me…. He'll probably put it off as long as possible, until tomorrow maybe.'_

At this point Stan entered the Shack, releasing the tour group he'd had with him to wander amongst the cheap shop items. "Oh, Wendy, hey!" She frowned at him. "Oh, yeah, I meant to be here when we introduced you to our new house guest. Oops! Haha."

"Oops?" Wendy asked with a frown before rolling her eyes and going back to looking at her magazine.

"Hey, Dipper, Soos, Pumpkin, I need you guys' help with the totem pole outside. Some idiot crashed his car into it and knocked it over!"

"Didn't you back into it this morning?" Dipper asked. Stan waved him off.

"Yeah, whatever, doesn't matter. I just need you guys to help me lift it. Wendy, you stay here and sell stuff to our fine customers here. Small-Fry might as well stay here with you, too; he can barely lift a fork. Keep _an eye_ on him." Stan winked and Bill glared at him lightly for the comments.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah! Wait a minute! You want me to _watch_ him? Can't he watch himself, I mean, he's like a bazillion years old isn't he?" Wendy asked.

"We don't give him free reign, of course," Stan said.

"Someone has to be in the room with him at all times, it's one of the rules we made for him," Mabel added.

"With the one exception of when he's locked in his cage, which we keep in the basement. He sleeps there, too," Dipper corrected.

Wendy looked to Bill. "You sleep in a _cage_?" She laughed and Bill blushed and looked away, somewhat embarrassed, though he would have greatly preferred to be angry. Fortunately, he didn't have much control over his emotions. "Alright, fine, I'll watch him." Wendy pulled a chair up to the wooden counter a few feet away from her.

Taking the hint, Bill sat down as the others exited the Shack. He crossed his arms on the countertop, hiding his chin in them and pointedly looking away from her, seemingly observing the customers. After a few long seconds she realized that he was just staring straight ahead blankly, which could be determined by noting that his eyes didn't move in the slightest as the customers walked about the room.

Wendy regarded him somewhat skeptically, not sure if she should just let him sit there quietly or if she should engage with him. The others had said he could be fun to talk to…. And Wendy had always been a fun-loving, adventurous type….

Wendy placed her magazine down on the wooden surface before her, turning to face Bill slightly. "So how long you been here for?" They'd said he had to answer questions, right?

"Today will be my sixth day here. I arrived early Saturday morning approximately a week ago."

"Yeah? And how did that go?"

"I woke up in the woods and walked here."

"I mean how did them finding out you were back roll over?" Wendy clarified.

"….About the same as with you, but more painful and with less people willing to help me," Bill admitted. Wendy nodded.

"Well, you look like you've had your fair share of grief, all things considered."

' _Is she just going to sit there asking me to recount the horrors I've been subjected to over the last week?!'_ Bill wondered to himself. He frowned, which Wendy picked up on: She decided she'd cut him some slack for whatever reason and change the subject.

"Hey, the kids said you know about a lot of cool mysteries; how about tomorrow you take us to see something neat?" Bill glared at her mildly, fear shining lightly in his eyes.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not?" She asked, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

"Tomorrow is June 13th, year 2014, is it not?"

"Yeah, so?"

"And it's Friday…."

Wendy laughed. "Scared of a little superstition, which is clearly fake because it was based on a movie?!"

Bill full-out glared at her this time, fear be damned. "I'll have you know that, while yes, most places in the world Friday the Thirteenth is just another day, here in Gravity Falls it is certainly best to remain indoors! That movie was inspired by this very town, you know."

"You're lying," Wendy said with a smirk, "the writer of that movie never mentioned Gravity Falls."

"The writer of that movie didn't experience it first hand and didn't know which town the superstition originated from. I assure you, Friday the Thirteenth is no day for roaming the woods by the lake, nor does the movie accurately depict what happens by said lake."

"Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Well I don't know what the _worst_ that could happen is, but it's more than likely that something will go wrong, someone will get hurt, Ford will think I got them hurt on purpose, and then he'll try to _kill_ me for it!" Bill said in a harsh whisper, glancing at the tourists in the gift shop.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "You're being overdramatic; that wouldn't happen." Bill leveled her _a look_ that spoke volumes, something between a glare and a horrified, nostalgic grimace. "Shit, did that happen?"

Bill nodded and gloomily rested his chin back into his folded arms, once again staring out at the shop. "Yes it did," he said quietly and gloomily. "So I'd really prefer _not_ to take anyone on any dangerous adventures, _thanks_ ," he said scathingly.

"Hmm," Wendy considered. "You know what, I'll talk to Stan, get him to close the shop tomorrow, and we'll _all_ go, Ford included." Bill looked at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" He asked.

"Nop-pe!" She said, popping the word out like a bursting bubble.

"….Fine…. Bring lots of salt." Wendy cocked an eyebrow as inquiry, but agreed with a silent head-nod.

At this moment, Ford burst in through the front door; several people stopped and stared at him for a moment before continuing to peruse the shelves.

"Oh, Ms. Corduroy, you're back," he greeted lightly, "and I see you've met the vermin." Bill didn't dignify him with a response, staring blankly, while Wendy laughed lightly.

"Ha, yeah, I guess." She shrugged.

"I thought you were _downstairs,_ " Bill piped up rather quietly. "Why'd you come from outside?"

"I was checking on some of those other entrances you mentioned," Ford clarified, "now follow me," he said before turning and exiting the door once more. Bill grimaced and hastily followed him outside, Wendy waving a goodbye at him that he didn't return.

 ***The voice actor who plays Wendy also voice-acts CJ from Regular Show. So yes, Wendy, that is Bill Cipher and yes, you are sort-of a talking cloud on occasion. X)**

 **A/N: Yes, the play at the end of the last chapter was another Undertale reference. ^^**

 **Remember, reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye~!**


	26. Chapter 25: To The Lab

**Chapter 25: To The Lab**

 **A/N: Look! It didn't take me two weeks to update, only two days! Yay~! And I already have Chapter 26 written so I should be able to publish that tomorrow!**

 **Oh, and just in case anyone doesn't know, a meter is about three feet long. I often use meters, the scientific standard of measurement, instead of feet or American yards (which are also about three feet, but not exactly equal to a meter for some reason). I practically never use yards, but I'll occasionally alternate between feet and meters (like a person's height, for example, will** _ **almost**_ **always** **be in feet and not meters). I swear, the various units of measurement we humans come up with! Hahaha. XD**

 **I hope you people enjoy the chapter!**

Bill followed Ford outside, walking a few paces behind him, close enough that Ford wouldn't tell him to hurry up but also far enough away that he could turn tail and run should Ford suddenly turn around and attack…. Not that Bill thought running was _really_ an option if Ford wanted to rough him up a bit.

Ford stopped out behind the Shack. "Alright, I've been searching for the various entrances you mentioned for the past few days and I've sealed all of the ones I've uncovered: I sealed the one Dipper fell in along with a second one under the Shack, I sealed the one hidden beneath the roots of an old tree and a fourth behind a boulder in the woods. Are there any others I missed?"

Bill hummed in consideration. "Just one, I believe."

"And which one is that?" Ford asked, slightly annoyed-sounding, displeased that he'd missed one.

' _If you're going to be upset by the answer then don't ask, Stanford!'_ Bill thought bitterly.

"There's one at the bottom of the well," Bill divulged. Ford scoffed.

"Impossible! I've been in that well before: It was one of the first things I checked out when searching for mysteries over thirty years ago, back when I first moved here. I found a surprising lack of anything there. Nothing paranormal, the moss on the stone walls was normal; there wasn't even any water, it was dried up!"

"Things change, Stanford. For one, you hadn't built your lab yet at that point and while it's true that there had been nothing down there at the time, after you built your lab the ceiling of one of your underground rooms passed directly under the well and over time the bottom of the well gave out and thus it connected to your lab."

Ford frowned and began in the direction of the well, which he knew to be a few meters into the woods behind the Shack. "But I didn't _build_ the caverns that house my lab, Bill. I just burrowed down to a natural cave."

"You did add rooms though. Specifically, you added a storage room on the third sublevel, a room that you carved out of the stone using your devices. The well drops off into that very room. I'll also have you know that, a very long time ago, the caves you now use for your labs were filled with water: They were formed by an aquifer underneath where the Shack is now, and the well used to draw water from that aquifer, though after the waterfall's spirit was born the aquifer was ultimately drained as the water in Gravity Falls began to travel a more unique cycle of use and reuse."

Ford stopped and turned around, staring at Bill. Bill halted as well, staring straight back with a slightly curious, wide-eyed, innocent- _looking_ expression on his face, wondering why Ford had stopped. Ford grumbled under his breath, still staring at Bill, and reached into his inner coat pocket, pulling back out Journal Number Three. Bill grinned, glad that he'd provided some information Ford thought worthy of putting in the Journal. If Bill played his cards right he figured he could get Ford to go easier on him by convincing him that, by playing nice, he could get more information out of Bill than he could by trying to force him to talk. If divulging information was what it took to lighten Ford's treatment of him then Bill was more than willing to oblige.

"So the waterfall's spirit; it took over this aquifer? And the aquifer used to be just a regular water source?" Ford turned to the pages Dipper had written on with information about the waterfall, once again walking towards the well, though this time with the Journal pulled out in front of him, writing as he went along.

Bill nodded. "Yes, that's about right. By the way, I only called it the waterfall's spirit as a simplified explanation of it. In reality, all water in Gravity Falls functions as a body of sorts for the spirit, not just the waterfall itself."

"And just how old _is_ the water spirit of Gravity Falls?"

"It didn't spring up until well after the spaceship crash-landed, but it's older than the first Gnomes. It first appeared about the same time as the first Hide-Behind moved here, I'd say, though the spirit itself is likely older than that. It probably migrated here from somewhere else, either on or off Earth, attracted by the 'weirdness magnetism', as you call it…. Or maybe The Axolotl sent it here, I really can't be too sure. I never cared to pay attention to exactly what showed up when. Let me put it this way: The spirit created the waterfall, so however old the falls are, that's how long the spirit has been here for."

Ford snapped the Journal shut as they approached the well, apparently satisfied with the information.

"Alright then, we need to block this up. And you're sure this is the only one I missed?"

"Unless another one has been created in the nine months since Weirdmageddon, yes, this is the last one." Ford nodded.

"Good." Without warning, Ford grabbed the rope hanging in the center of the well, a bucket tied to the bottom, and jumped, his feet braced against the bucket. He descended hastily into the well, halting suddenly and with a sharp jolt once the rope had reached as far down into the well as it could go.

Bill hastily ran over to the edge and peered down, expecting the bucket's handle to break or the rope to snap, but no, neither event occurred: The entire rig held steadfast, as Ford had known that it would.

"Come on down Bill, we'll seal it up from the inside," he called up. Bill looked down skeptically.

"But what if it breaks?" Bill called back cautiously.

"It won't," Ford called up as he looked down towards the ground from his spot still perched on the bucket. It was a four meter drop to the ground, easy enough, so he let go of the rope, dropping the rest of the way to the storage room below him. He landed amongst a number of boxes that gave way under his weight: No wonder he had never noticed the hole in the ceiling! He hardly ever came in here and even upon entry the room was dimly lit, the walls the same dark grey stone as the spaces within the well, and there was a large amount of distracting clutter in the room. "I just fixed up this well's pulley system a few months ago when I noticed that it had fallen into disrepair during my thirty years in the portal. It'll hold, especially if it held me: You're much lighter, of course."

' _I hope there was nothing important in these boxes…. Stan left them here, so no, it's probably all just his old junk,'_ Ford thought to himself.

Bill bit his lip nervously. "B-but…." Ford groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Down, Bill. _Now._ That's an order!" Bill scowled, sighed heavily, and reached towards the center of the well for the rope.

Ford exited the storage room and went to collect the necessities that would be required for blocking up the hole efficiently.

Bill grasped the rope and wondered for a moment if he should pull it up and ride down as Ford had. _'No,'_ he decided, _'I probably wouldn't be able to hold on when the rope ran out: I'd end up getting the rope yanked out of my hands and I'd slam into the ground going pretty damn fast….'_ Whispering a few angry curses under his breath, Bill grasped the rope tightly in his hands and left the ground, dangling by the rope in the center of the well.

He inched down it, taking several long, slow minutes before finally reaching the bucket and bracing himself against it, letting his arms rest. He'd thought they were going to give out half-way through, or that he was going to slip and break his neck; the rope was a good ten meters long and by the time he'd reached the bottom his hold had been shaky and his arms were sore.

Bill peered down from his spot on the bucket, noting that the ground was a good four meters below him and made of stone. He prepared to jump, but hesitated. He scowled.

Ford came back into the room with a nail-gun and several wooden boards: He'd make sure to collapse the walls at the bottom of the well later so that there was a layer of soil covering the entrance as well.

Ford noticed that Bill still hadn't appeared in the room. He dropped the wooden boards and nail-gun and clambered through the boxes over to the hole in the ceiling, looking up and seeing Bill still holding onto the rope.

"Well, come on Cipher, hurry it up before I shoot you down."

The small form glared down at him and Ford saw a flash of red before his eyes returned to their glowing golden hue, slightly illuminating the walls of the well around him with a soft yellow glow.

"There is no way I'm letting go of this rope and dropping over ten feet down to the hard stone floor, Stanford," Bill said sternly.

Ford laughed. "Wow, you really are _useless_ like this, aren't you?" Ford asked, and Bill hated to admit it, but yes, he was currently somewhat pathetic. "You're letting go of that rope one way or another. Are you going to climb back up?" Ford asked smugly.

Bill peered up, his arms still shaky from the climb down. No, climbing up wasn't an option, at least not for the next hour or so; his arms would _definitely_ give out then and he'd end up falling a distance _greater_ than ten feet, possibly killing himself in the process. If he jumped from where he was now, he wouldn't die, at least, though he also was too afraid of the thought of spraining his ankle or breaking his leg or some such to let go.

Ford groaned. "My God, Cipher, so frustrating…. Just let go!" Bill closed his eyes and shook his head, once again refusing, grasping the rope more tightly.

' _To be fair, ten-plus feet_ _would_ _seem like quite a long ways to fall for someone shorter than four feet tall and thinner than my thigh,'_ Ford thought.

With a frustrated sigh he said: "You know what? Fine, Bill! I'll catch you; just let go."

Bill's eyes snapped open and he glared down at Ford again. "What do you take me for? Some kind of completely gullible idiot?! You're not going to catch me, you'll just insist that you'll catch me and then when I actually let go you'll let me fall and split my head open!" To Ford, it almost sounded like Bill was _whining._

"Don't be so childish, Cipher. Unlike _someone_ I know, I keep my promises, and I promise to catch you!" Bill didn't respond. "Besides, if you got hurt I'd never hear the end of it from the rest of my family, and Mabel would be furious, so no, I certainly won't drop you. Now hurry up and let go! That's an order."

Bill groaned in loud exasperation, shut his eyes, and let go.

To his infinite surprise, two six-fingered hands latch on beneath his arms and halted his downward decent before he could actually hit the ground.

' _He's even lighter than I thought he would be,'_ Ford noted as he set the small form steadily on its feet.

"See? Didn't I tell you I'd catch you?" Ford said smugly, to which Bill only responded by crossing his arms over his chest and mumbling under his breath. "Now go fetch the step-ladder." Bill complied and twenty minutes later, Ford had finished boarding up the bottom of the well, Bill standing nearby and holding the leftover nails.

Bill tossed the nails into a box as Ford led them into the main lab. "I assume you already know more or less where everything is, so I won't give you a tour," Ford said, heading straight for his workbench. "I'm currently working on collecting a sample of the ants' venom for studying and documenting them fully." On Ford's table was an ant farm. "They're fascinatingly intelligent," Ford said, motioning to the ant farm. "They write greetings in the dirt."

Sure enough, as they approached Bill could see the small handful of ants working hastily away in the dirt, moving it about until it read in upright symbols that Ford couldn't read: "Hello, Bill."

Ford's brow furrowed. "That your language, Bill?" He asked.

Bill nodded in return. "Something like that."

"How do they recognize you?"

Bill scoffed. "We're both creatures that rule the mind, myself being the sole inhabitant of the Mindscape on most occasions, and they have telepathic abilities. Of course they should recognize me instantly."

"Didn't you destroy one of their mounds the other day? Will they be angry about that?"

"They shouldn't, or rather _won't,_ hold it against me."

Ford nodded. "I assume the reason is because of what the kids told me the other day, that everything in Gravity Falls has an affinity to you."

Bill shrugged. "I still don't entirely know what that's all about. I'm not even sure I want to know why they never get course with me," Bill admitted.

Ford sat down at the workbench and lifted one of five test tubes he had on the desk, each one corked at the lid, a light yellow liquid inside. "These are the vials of venom I've collected," Ford supplied. "Dipper said that the ants choose what effect the venom has, so I'm wondering: Since I've extracted a lot of venom from various ants and combined it into these vials, will they have no effect? Or is there a default effect that happens when it hasn't specifically been chosen? Perhaps I can discover exactly _how_ they effect the venom to choose the outcome…. If possible, I'd like to find a way to recreate the whole process and be able to decide what I want the venom I've collected to do. I may not be able to teleport like they do, I understand the theories on magic effecting beings of different sizes in different ways, but I might be able to recreate this."

Bill laughed lightly. "You could ask the ants," Bill said.

"Already tried, they don't much like the idea of sharing their most valuable and potentially dangerous secrets with a human, though they don't mind giving tours around their home, according to Dipper." Ford poured a small amount of venom onto a glass slide and placed it under a microscope.

"And you don't have anything more…. _Exciting_ going on down here?" Bill asked, looking around and seeing very little. "And to think; I used to admire your thrilling scientific escapades!" Ford glared at him, looking up from the microscope.

"You mean my _dangerous_ escapades. Even if I did have something more exciting going on, I wouldn't tell _you_ about it, Bill."

"Why not? We worked together once before, on some highly unstable projects, no less."

"Do you really want me to start reminiscing about the time you and I worked together and you betrayed me?" Ford asked, and Bill fell silent. "I thought not." He went back to looking through the microscope, an angry scowl not leaving his face until he had fully immersed himself in his work.

 **A/N: This was an exactly standard-sized chapter: The next chapter will be longer but more core-story/background based (which means more long dialogue paragraphs between Ford and Bill), and the chapters following that will be more action-packed. Just a heads up for what's to come in the next three or so updates. ;3**

 **I love you guys so much! Thanks to everyone who has favorited, is following, to those who have been reviewing, and thank you to all for reading this far! You are all pure awesome-sauce!**

 **=^.^=**


	27. Chapter 26: Why, Bill?

**Chapter 26: Why, Bill?**

 **A/N: I have studied college-level chemistry…. But I didn't go all super-nerd-compounds on you guys, so relax. I won't be spewing any complex chemical formulas at you. Still, if I say a certain substance is crystalline or a powder or if it has a certain color, know that it's the truth…. For the most part. ;3**

 **Enjoy~!**

Over the next several hours, Bill became increasingly bored. Ford would occasionally ask for something: A new slide, a beaker, a dropper, some chemical or another…. At one point Ford had asked for an ingredient he needed and then had begun to _describe what the color of it was so Bill could find it._

"I know _very well_ that your Sulfur will be a fine yellow powder, _Stanford_!" He'd all but yelled furiously when Ford had made the mistake of beginning to describe what he'd asked for.

' _Of course,'_ Ford had to remind himself after Bill handed over the substance, _'it's BILL; he knows more about various elements and chemicals and compounds than I do! It's just so easy to forget sometimes, when….'_ Ford looked over and observed Bill, who was currently resting his chin against the wooden workbench looking _incredibly_ bored, his legs swinging back and forth slightly as they dangled from the chair he was sitting in. He looked precisely like a sulking child. _'Can Bill truly imitate a child's emotions so accurately, or is this just what he's like?'_

Ford had known Bill to be a great many things; when he'd first met the demon he'd thought him a true gentleman. Of course by now Ford knew that there was a raging and malevolent demon within him too, but could there also be a mindset similar to that of a child's? Thinking back on it, Bill had always been smug when he was right about something others had questioned, he hated being bored, he liked to play games, and not just mind games, but chess and cards and the like as well. He certainly knew how to throw a tantrum, and he craved praise and attention. Bright colors and shapes of any kind pleased him, particularly the three-sided and yellow sorts, but even when he could take any form he liked he often took to rather colorful appearances.

Ford shook his head and decided that Bill Cipher was and always had been a great many things, and that a certain childishness was among those things. He was intelligent, sophisticated, destructive…. And childish.

Ford groaned as Bill began to absent-mindedly roll a pencil back and forth on the desk, seemingly having forgotten his fear of Stanford in the hours that had passed. Or, more specifically, his fear had taken a back seat to his boredom. Bill had always _loathed_ being bored; back in the Mindscape he could do essentially anything! See anyone's dreams, observe the world, travel to other realms, and in the Nightmare Realm of which he frequently visited he had friends who knew how to party in a way not entirely dissimilar to a human rave, but with more _fire_ and stronger beverages. No, Bill Cipher did not like to be bored, he was far too used to being able to do almost anything, and in the way that human emotions often worked, time had dulled his fear.

"Will you stop that?" Ford asked in annoyance. Why did Bill have to be so _infuriating_?

Bill stopped flicking the rolling pencil, his more logical side filling in for his emotions' current lack of proper self-preservation measures.

"What do you expect me to do? Honestly, Stanford, nearly unlimited knowledge sitting next to you and you what, have me picking up worthless little things from around the lab for you?" Bill scowled. Why did Ford have to be so _idiotic_ and _paranoid_?

Well, to be fair, Bill had to admit that he'd been the primary cause of the paranoia….

"What would you have me do, Bill? Give you free reign around the lab? No! The kids are the ones forcing you to stay down here with me so if you hate it that much, then tonight at dinner you should try to convince them to let us out of this arrangement!"

"If you'd actually let me _do_ anything then it wouldn't be such a problem," Bill complained. "I'm sure I could do whatever it is you've been trying to do for the last hundred hours in five minutes flat!"

Ford laughed. "I doubt that; I'm trying to recreate the formula for this venom so I can produce more of it. Listen, even if you _could_ make the venom I wouldn't let you. Tapping into your vast knowledge is a double-edged sword that I've cut myself on once already! You're never satisfied until you've made the most dangerous device you can manage."

' _Yeah, well, that was before I was like_ _ **this**_ _,'_ Bill thought bitterly, but he knew better than to try and convince Ford that he was different in this human body; if he tried to do that he'd likely just end up hurt…. Again….

Instead of arguing and potentially putting himself in danger, Bill sighed loudly and thumped his forehead down onto the desk, his golden strands of hair falling around his head and onto the table, glowing in the artificial lights hanging from the stone ceiling.

"Can I at least make one suggestion?" Bill asked.

Ford glanced at him. "What is it?"

"Grab a Bunsen Burner."

Ford raised an eyebrow, looking over at the form with its head still resting against the wooden workbench. "Add heat?" Bill nodded. "What for?"

Bill sighed. "The reaction you want won't take place unless you add heat. The defender ants that you gathered this venom from have sacks in them that hold the venom. I'm sure you knew that, but what you didn't know is that the sacks are kept at very high temperatures within the body. Their bodies are good insulators, so you probably can't feel the heat unless you touch one with your bare hand, and I assume that you were wearing gloves when you collected your samples since you can't be sure what effect the ants might choose for you. You probably also haven't yet dissected any of them because, unlike normal, run-of-the-mill insects, their intellect not only rivals, but also possibly surpasses that of a human's…. Depending on which human you're comparing them to. The point is, I'm willing to bet that you didn't want to kill one and pull it apart to see how it ticks."

Ford stared silently for a few moments, considering all that Bill had said. Finally he huffed and said "Bill, go get me a burner." Bill rolled his eyes, but stood and retrieved the requested equipment without complaint: Performing such a simple task was, after all, still vastly better than sitting and doing nothing at all.

Ford took the device and plugged it into his workbench's outlet, connecting the hose to his natural gas line before clicking it on. He began to heat the artificial venom sample he'd been working on. Within thirty seconds it had gone from a deep violet to a light orange color.

"Still not quite right, but it's definitely an improvement," Ford muttered mostly to himself.

"Your concentrations are off." Ford glanced over at Bill and sighed, turning off the burner. He swiveled in his chair until he was fully facing Bill, his left elbow propped against the wooden tabletop.

"Alright Bill, if you're so intent on sharing knowledge with me, then answer me this: Why did you attempt Weirdmageddon? What was it _for_? I don't think you'd go through all of that trouble and risk your life over it just for kicks, and you did almost die of course, but I'm also having a hard time believing that you did all of the things you did simply because you were trying to 'change your nature' or whatever such lies you told the kids. What were your _real_ reasons?"

Bill lifted his head from the workbench and stared at Ford side-long through a mess of golden hair, a seriousness in his eyes that hadn't been there minutes before. "I don't know what you expect me to say, Stanford. Honestly I don't. By the terms of our agreement, I can neither deny you an answer nor lie to you, but even if I told you the truth you would think it was a total falsehood. Would you punish me then? You have no way, under these circumstances, of knowing if I'm telling you the truth or not, so why shouldn't I just lie and tell you exactly what you expect? If I told you I did it only for the ultimate power you would believe me, wouldn't you? Power is always a good enough driving force to humans, and I'm not entirely different in that regard."

Ford considered Bill's words. "You're right, that explanation is the _easiest_ for me to believe, but I want to know what else you _might_ say, regardless. Whatever your response is, I won't punish you for giving it. I'll assume that there is at least a slight chance that you're telling the truth, and I'll tag on this as well: I won't resort to physical violence against you for whatever you say, though I'll still be listening with highly skeptical ears." Ford looked Bill in the eyes. "Now why, Bill Cipher, did you start Weirdmageddon?"

Bill laughed lightly, contemplating what response he should give. For several long moments he was silent before finally speaking.

"All of the reasons I've given so far have been at least partially true. Yes, I wanted power. I wanted the power to change who I am more than _almost_ anything else. As a less prominent desire, I truly did hope to create a universe in which I was the immortal host of a never-ending party. I wanted to be happy: Isn't that what _most_ people want? Even those who don't want to be happy are often pleased by their despair in one way or another. And I admit, I didn't really care all too much who got hurt along the way, mostly because I already know how feeble and short human lives are. Do you care about every ant you squash beneath your boot?"

Ford knew that this question (as arrogant and annoyingly Bill-ish as it was) was rhetorical and thus remained silent and waited for Bill to continue.

"Of course, I also didn't kill any of you specifically because I knew that, despite your short lives, you were a complicated species. You yourself, Stanford, proved to me that humans could be intelligent…. Despite also being highly gullible.

"Those reasons were part of why I set Weirdmageddon into motion, but no, they aren't the only reasons, or even the most prominent ones. The most impactful factor of my decisions was probably the Nightmare Realm."

' _Ah-ha,'_ Ford thought, _'and so it comes to light.'_ Bill had known from the start of the conversation that Ford was particularly interested in how the Nightmare Realm played into all of this, and he knew that Stanford, in like, was aware that Bill knew he wanted to hear more on that particular subject. Bill was willing to oblige, albeit somewhat reluctantly and with the sense that he didn't have any other choice. He got the feeling that Ford might not like what he had to say, but Bill would say it all the same, even if it solidified the idea in Ford's mind that Bill was nothing but purely evil. The conversation had begun, the path was set, and it was too late, as far as Bill could discern, for him to back out now.

"I told you once before that I come from the second dimension, a place where hopes and dreams, life itself, is all flat, and I told you that I had liberated it from its pathetic existence: I burned it all to the ground. What I didn't tell you is how I gained the power necessary to do that, or what it felt like at the time. The Axolotl is the being who was chosen to represent creation, and I destruction. You could say that the third dimension is like a railroad track: On one side is the fourth dimension, from which beings are wealthy and favored and they live peaceful lives, and on the wrong side of the tracks was my dimension, the second. Coming from the better side of things, The Axolotl was given benevolent power, and I was given a fate in which everything I knew would ultimately be destroyed."

Bill paused and looked at Ford, trying to gauge his reactions. When the old man was silent and still, nothing given away on his face, Bill continued.

"What you have to understand about the second dimension is that everything, _everything,_ was flat, and that included emotions, relationships, _everything._ I felt no emotional attachment to my dimension in large part because it's impossible to feel much of anything at all while you're there. There was no sense of time: Nobody I knew thought anything more than the bare minimum of thoughts required to be alive, my parents and such included."

Ford looked startled. "Your parents? I thought you were born out of the Universe or some such?"

"Yes and no," Bill said. "My powers, my destructive tendencies, everything that makes my who and what I am was born of some greater power or the Universe, but the flat, two-dimensional husk that those powers were forced upon was born from other two-dimensional beings in an equally plain existence. Ultimately, it was my powers that told me there was something greater out there, and that the only way I could escape the second dimension was to destroy it. So I did, and only once I'd exited the second dimension was I able to become more. My powers could be used to a higher potential, and I could feel things like anger and…. A number of other thing that I hadn't felt before, though the emotions were still nothing like the range of a human's, which has been proven to me by my time in this body."

"Where did you go after you destroyed the second dimension?" Ford asked curiously. "Assuming that this story is even true, of course."

"That should be obvious Stanford: I transferred to the Mindscape. I won't bore you with the details of that particular place, besides mentioning that I never would have remained to be a yellow triangle after everything that happened in the second dimension if I'd had a choice, but my mind is what it is, and it's a yellow triangle, and after such a long time of using it, even when I can become anything I can imagine I still revert back to a yellow triangle or pyramid. In the Mindscape I was always a yellow triangle first and foremost.

"But you don't really want to hear about the Mindscape, do you? No, _you_ want to know about the _Nightmare Realm,_ isn't it so?" Ford nodded. "Well, I was able to find the Nightmare Realm through the Mindscape. The beings who live there have minds advanced enough to make contact with. I was surprised, actually, when I discovered that, unlike in this world, I could manifest a physical form for myself in the Nightmare Realm. This is because the Nightmare Realm is a place without rules, constantly moving in between various worlds and dimensions. It knows no laws or restrictions, and because of that I soon discovered that I fit in _perfectly_ there. The various beings who live there took a liking to me all those years ago: They all know who I am, and I know most of them, aside from the few who might come and go over the years. The point is, it felt like I belonged there, I have friends there, we get along and enjoy ourselves there. It's nearly _perfect_. At least to me."

"Then why didn't you stay there?" Ford asked. "Why did you have to come _here_ and try to ruin our lives?"

Bill smiled to hide the sadness that suddenly invaded his human body, but it was very clearly a sad smile. "That's because the Nightmare Realm is destined to collapse. A place without rules is unstable, and unless some sort of structure can be given to the realm it will ultimately fall apart, killing everyone who resides within as a permanent resident."

Ford frowned, somewhat startled by this information. _'The Nightmare Realm is destined to collapse? Then Weirdmageddon….'_

Bill nodded, sensing what Ford was thinking. "That's right. As the only one with enough power who could also leave the Nightmare Realm freely, I set out to find a way to save it. I ultimately came up with Weirdmageddon: My plan was to merge the Nightmare Realm with this one, so that the Nightmare Realm would become more stabilized, and I would subsequently become the ruler, the rules, which would ensure that there was just barely enough order amongst the chaos to keep it from destroying itself."

Ford eyed Bill. "But we stopped you."

Bill smiled wider, trying to force back tears. _'Damn human body!'_ He thought. It was too difficult to hide his emotions…. Still, he pushed on with the conversation:

"Don't people say that history remembers the losers as bad and winners as good, regardless of their reasons for fighting? You'll probably hate to hear this Stanford, but we were each fighting for a similar cause during Weirdmageddon. We were each fighting to preserve the world we knew, to save our…. Friends. The only differences between you and I are that I was the one in the position of having to go to any lengths to battle fate, I've been fighting for a very long time, and the most prominent difference; I lost." Bill sighed. "I suppose I thought that I'd have another chance for as long as the Nightmare Realm existed. I tried once before to use humans to achieve my goals, but you were all too primitive back then to help me. The man who I spoke with all those years ago is the same one who drew the cave paintings you found and used to summon me. I never predicted that I might actually die…. Some part of me knew it _might_ be a _possibility,_ but I didn't pay it much mind; I had other things to worry about. Being given a human form and having my powers locked away? That's been an even larger surprise than almost dying was. It's changed everything: I actually don't know now if I'll have another chance at Weirdmageddon."

At Ford's stern gaze Bill quickly added "Ah, but I might as well wait until _after_ you and your loved ones all die off. The Nightmare Realm has lasted this long, so it likely won't fall apart during your lifetime. After all, this has already been the most eventful hundred years I've ever been a part of! How much more could possibly happen? Besides what happens to me directly while in this body, of course." Ford still didn't look pleased, so Bill hastily continued the conversation before Ford could make further comments on possible future Weirdmageddons...

"I think you should understand now what I mean when I say that everything I touch turns to ashes. I destroyed the second dimension, the Nightmare Realm will be doomed to collapse if I die in this body, and you humans are such short-lived creatures that I really only have to sit back and watch time turn your bones to dust. If only I can change my nature, that should directly correlate with saving the Nightmare Realm…."

"No," Ford said. "Surprisingly enough, I actually _am_ sorry to have to break this to you Bill, but after everything that's happened, the Nightmare Realm will probably fall apart. It wasn't meant to last, and sometimes, no matter how many times you try, you can't change destiny. Dipper can tell you that, he learnt as much during one of his own troubles with altering the past. Living forever is a lot like being able to reset the clock, but no matter how many times you try again, you still probably won't be able to save your Nightmare Realm." Ford stared blankly at Bill, and Bill stared back, silent tears slowly pooling in his eyes despite the pointedly blank expression he wore. Ford wondered if Bill was even aware that he was crying.

"It might not matter anyway," Bill said with a small shrug, trying to play this all off as if he didn't care one bit. "The Axolotl, if I do find this whole 'redemption' thing, will probably insist that part of the journey is learning how to let go of the Nightmare Realm and say goodbye…."

Ford didn't know how to respond to that.

"….You should have said yes."

"Said yes to what?" Ford asked in confusion.

"I was counting on you saying yes when I told you that I'd let you be one of us. I offered to let you join my group of friends, to rule by my side. I told you that you could have your own galaxy if you wanted to, and of course all you had to do was say yes and then ask for the Milky Way Galaxy. Your world would have been left intact, provided you decided that you didn't want to make any _improvements_ to it as this world's new ruler. I would have been powerful, my friends would be safe, here, in a stable and solid dimension. You could have, _should have,_ said yes."

Ford shook his head. "It goes against my beliefs to let you rule with ultimate power over anyone; even if I could be ignorant of what you were doing and who you were ruling, it still wouldn't be right. Even if you didn't kill anyone, it wouldn't be right."

Bill looked away from him. "If I ever get another chance I'll do it right. I'll promise everyone a dimension that's entirely peaceful: With the power I'll have I can end all war, hunger, famine…. Aside from curing death itself, I can do just about anything. I can make people happy, myself included, if I ever get Weirdmageddon to work."

Ford shook his head. "Still think you can defy fate?" Ford sighed and stood. "One day you'll have to learn, maybe sooner rather than later. Your powers are those of destruction: Having more power would only make you more destructive. You can't fix yourself either, the most you can do is hope that a powerful being of healing and creation, such as The Axolotl, can fix whatever problems you have in your soul. Until then, try _not_ to gain power and subsequently destroy things." Bill frowned in disagreement, but he didn't argue. Instead he followed Ford and they approached the elevator.

"I don't necessarily believe that whole story you just told me, Cipher…. but I'll take everything you said into consideration."

The old man glanced down at his watch. "It's always so easy to loose track of time down here, without the sunlight guiding my internal clock. It's already almost dinner time and they've no doubt closed up the gift shop. Wendy's staying to eat with us, if I'm not mistaken," Ford said as Bill followed him into the elevator.

"She wants us all to go on a Friday the Thirteenth adventure tomorrow," Bill commented as the elevator ascended to the ground floor.

"Oh boy," Ford laughed lightly. "I'll bring the salt."

 **A/N: No, Ford and Bill won't be all completely buddy-buddy now, but I think things will be considerably better between them…. Except for in the moments when they're not. XD**

 **In case anyone doesn't know, the Nightmare Realm being unstable and Weirdmageddon being an attempt at saving it is Canon. That's actually what's up in the show, I just take it all to new levels and infer some interesting things. (For example, Bill says they're his "friends" in the show, but to me it looks more like the closest thing he's ever had to a family, though he wouldn't say that out-right. His gang reminds me of a fraternity in college: Everyone in a fraternity is like family, but if you happen to be a party fraternity you'll look a lot like Bill's Nightmare Gang. Haha.) One of my favorite things about writing this story is that I get to express some of the legitimately plausible theories I have about Bill Cipher and the show.**

 **If you don't really like reading about my ideas/theories or about possible Bill background/history, don't fret! The next few chapters will be much more action-packed and exciting. ;3**

 **If anyone thinks that some things in my theories are implausible or the like, please keep in mind that this is an AU of sorts. Besides, I'm taking a little creative liberty with Bill, though my ultimate hope is that it all fits into the show well and makes sense and is in character and/or developed the characters in a logical way. Of course I know that all of** _ **this**_ **would be an unlikely season three for the show, if ever one was made, but just the idea that it's theoretically possible is enough. So far I haven't gotten any complaints about the theories I've written yet, so yay for that~! That means they make sense and fit well enough, right….?**

 **Sorry for the long note. ^^ I actually, surprisingly enough, had a little bit of difficulty writing this chapter. Maybe because of the tenses and sheer volume of dialogue? Idk. Hope it was good enough anyway...**

 **Thanks for reading! Remember, reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye~!**


	28. Chapter 27: A History On Friday The 13th

**Chapter 27: A History On Friday The Thirteenth In Gravity Falls**

 **A/N: You guys can legit check my facts on this because I did my research! June 13** **th** **, 2014 really WAS a Friday and the night of a full moon, so when I say there's a full moon out in the story and that it's Friday the Thirteenth of June, 2014, that's all based on the real calendar! I was looking at a 2014 calendar and realized that there was a Friday the Thirteenth the day after Wendy appears in the story, so then I knew I just HAD to do something with it! I couldn't just let a mystery opportunity go to waste like that, now could I? ;3**

 **I hope you all enjoy the chapter~!**

Ford and Bill exited the vending machine and strode into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're here," Stan commented. "I thought I was gonna have to have Dipper go down and drag you two out of the lab!"

"BILL~!" Mabel's cheery cry pierced the air as she pounced on him. Her hands instantly began to roam, checking him over for injuries, her eyes scanning the skin on his arms for any discoloration that spoke of bruises. "Mean old Grunkle Ford didn't hurt you again, did he?" She asked.

"Mean?" Ford asked, perplexed and sounding just a tad hurt.

' _I guess she's still mad that I've been hurting Bill,'_ Ford thought, shaking his head. Sometimes he thought his niece was too loving for her own good.

"I'm perfectly alright, Shooting Star," Bill calmly assured her. Wendy was watching from her spot perched on a kitchen chair with her legs kicked up onto the table. She raised an eyebrow at Mabel's apparently over-abundant care of the small blonde, but didn't say anything. Wendy hadn't seen it before, but Mabel regarded Bill with an almost little-brother type of fondness, and honestly? Dipper wasn't far behind her.

Said brown-haired boy approached and did a similar inspection to that of his sister's before nodding his approval.

"Alright, everyone into the living room!" Stan said to the room at large. "It's way too small in here for you all ta be standin' around while I finish dinner. Soos, you stay and help me carry the food."

Soos saluted obediently as the others migrated into the living room.

"So what did you guys do?" Dipper immediately asked.

"Yeah, was it fun?" Mabel asked hopefully.

"Well…." Ford began.

"No," Bill said with a slightly irritated smirk. "It was, in fact, entirely boring for the majority of the time we were down there. Stanford spent _hours_ trying to figure out a simple chemical formula. That has a humor in and of itself, but sitting around watching him do it was the epitome of boredom."

Dipper quirked an eyebrow. "What formula were you making?" He asked his Grunkle as he situated himself on the armrest of Stan's recliner.

"I'm recreating the ants' venom."

"And why didn't you just ask Bill how to do it? If you asked nicely he'd probably tell you," Dipper said, confusion lacing his voice. Ford grumbled and crossed his arms, whispering under his breath about not needing help from some "arrogant triangle demon," though he had ultimately taken Bill's advice and added heat.

Stan and Soos carried in plates of fish sticks as everyone gathered around the TV, handing a plate to each occupant in the room.

"For dessert we have chocolate cake!" Soos said with excitement. The seven present ate their meals while watching America's Funniest Home Videos.

"People can be so idiotic," Bill said, laughing at the expense of those on the TV.

"I should make Bill eat glitter again and we should send it in!" Mabel said suddenly, which made Bill stop laughing instantly and glare at her with a slight pout.

"Eat _glitter?_ " Wendy asked, laughing. "You've officially joined the ranks of us 'idiotic humans."

" _Shooting Star,_ " he whined quietly, which instantly had everyone laughing. Bill looked confused. "What?"

Soos wiped tears from the corner of his eye. "You're so totes adorable it's, like, impossible." Bill crossed his arms.

"I'd show you…." He whispered quietly to himself, sulking.

Mabel and Dipper cut the cake and distributed slices, an extra large piece going to Bill, which he managed to finish, despite the fact that he hadn't even finished his fish sticks. Soon after he had once again fallen asleep near the recliner, this time curled up on the floor with his back pressed against it, able to sleep easily in the knowledge that Mabel was a mere two feet away from him, there to protect him should anyone try to harm him.

"You should have brought him up for lunch," Mabel said to her Grunkle Ford with a slightly disapproving tone. "He's doing better than he was yesterday, and he isn't as pale as he was this morning anymore, but I still don't want him skipping out on any meals."

Dipper nodded. "He really can't afford to not eat."

"I'd noticed he looked super thin. What's up with that anyway? How much does he eat? And he said some pretty major stuff has happened to him since he got here: Why are there only a few yellow bruises left?" Wendy asked.

"He can still heal himself," Ford supplied. "Just not entirely or instantly."

"And it takes a lot out of him," Dipper added. "I think that the more he has to use his powers, the higher his metabolism gets. The powers probably burn a lot of calories. We've been trying to feed him sugar to make up for the energy drains, but he can only eat so much: His body is too small to handle as much food as his powers are demanding."

"In that case, you should probably pack some snacks for tomorrow," Wendy said.

"Why, what are we doing tomorrow?" Mabel asked.

"Ah, yes, Bill told me you wanted to go to the lake tomorrow," Ford said to Wendy. "Honestly, it's not a very good idea, but if we're all going and we have Bill with us, then I _would_ like the chance to study what occurs on the night of Friday the Thirteenth."

"So you know about it?" Soos asked and Ford nodded.

"Yes. Oh, well, no…. Not exactly. I know that _something_ happens, that it happens mostly at night, and that it's dangerous. Back in the day, when I was the only one researching the bizarre phenomenon of Gravity Falls, I knew better than to try to investigate alone. I do, however, know that there's a spirit in the lake that drowns people who wonder too close. I don't know where it came from or exactly what it is."

"It's a demon," came a groggy reply. Awakened by their conversation, Bill sat up and rubbed his eyes, Stan muting the TV so they could hear. Bill yawned and Soos and Mabel gushed quietly.

"What sort of demon?" Dipper asked.

"A water one, of course. And by demon I do truly mean demon, the type that can be summoned and that was never human," Bill said.

"How did it get here?" Wendy asked.

"About fifty years ago there used to be a camp near the lake. Some group of kids thought it would be funny to try out some ritual they read about in the Gravity Falls library. The result was the appearance of the water demon in the lake, which ended up killing all seven children involved in the summoning and three adults that were at the camp, dragging them all into the lake and holding them under, their bodies being found the next morning. The camp was of course closed down right after that. I was never able to locate their souls; I suspect the demon still has them."

"Hasn't anyone else tried summoning it since then? Why is it still here in Gravity Falls? And what sort of demon can only kill on Friday the Thirteenth?" Dipper asked.

"Those are all prominent questions: Very good Pine Tree," Bill said with a smirk. "Yes, people have attempted to summon the demon in subsequent years, but their attempts were never successful. The reason the demon hasn't left Gravity Falls and why attempts at summoning it have failed is because it has been trapped in the lake. Long before it was ever summoned here, the demon roamed the Earth and killed various animals and people that happened to approach whatever water source it was occupying at the time. When it came here to Gravity Falls, the benevolent water spirit we have here decided to trap it in an attempt at keeping it from killing more people in the future. The water spirit is also responsible for producing the thick mist that covers the lake every Friday the Thirteenth: It figured that if it made it difficult to see, less people would be inclined to go near the lake, which was a correct assumption, for the most part. There have been people over the years who have gone out to the lake anyway, despite the thick mist, and have fallen victim to the demon."

"And what about it only killing on Friday the Thirteenth?" Stan asked.

"The demon was originally summoned by those seven children on a Friday the Thirteenth, so now it only has enough power to fight the Gravity Falls water spirit on those nights, though it still hasn't managed to escape. It will be even more powerful because of the full moon tomorrow night, but so will the water spirit, so there's really no telling what could happen."

"Isn't there some way to kill it?" Mabel asked. "So that it won't be able to hurt anyone else?"

Bill looked at her. "Um, no, I don't think so. Though I have discovered that it hates salt. This particular water demon is a fresh-water lurker, and I believe it's had some scuffles in the past with the gods and goddesses of salt-water bodies such as seas and oceans, so it can be warded off by salt. That's why we need to take copious amounts of salt with us tomorrow: If we keep some in our pockets then if we were to fall into the water the water around us would have trace amounts of salt in it and it wouldn't be willing to come near." Bill frowned and looked at Ford. "By the way, Stanford, you knew that we needed to take salt but you didn't know about the demon and no one has ever used salt to ward it off before except for me. How _did_ you figure we needed to take salt with us?"

Ford frowned and grumbled. "W-well, I was under the impression that the mist was being caused by the lost souls of those who had drowned in the lake, and I know that salt can be used to ward off spirits. I…. Didn't know that the mist was being produced by the water spirit."

Bill clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Huh, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. And here I thought you'd actually figured something out."

Ford frowned and Bill got the sudden feeling that if Dipper and Mabel hadn't been in the room, Stanford would have slapped him just now. In the interest of self preservation Bill stopped smiling and fell silent, looking away. Why must his arrogance cause such problems? It was Ford, after all, who had been wrong. Didn't he have the right to be a bit smug after all of the obnoxious and painful displays of power Ford had rained down upon him over the past few days?

Sensing the tense atmosphere that suddenly sprung up around Bill, Stan changed the direction of the conversation. "So nothing should happen 'till night? Great! Wendy asked me if I could close the Shack for the day and Soos and I already both agreed to it, so we can all spend the day on the lake! I bet _someone_ here doesn't know how to fish."

"I think _everyone_ here, in fact, knows how to fish, Stanley," Bill disagreed. "I certainly know _how,_ even if I've never done it before. Surely Ford has fished before, you taught the children last year, and I doubt that Ms. Corduroy hasn't been taken fishing at some point in the past, most likely by her father. Soos actually owns a fishing boat... or rather he _did,_ until it was destroyed last year."

Stan snorted. "Yeah, and that mean's you're the one who don't know how to fish, Short-Stack. Just cuz you vaguely know how todoesn't mean you really know. Until ya done it, it doesn't count."

"Then it's settled!" Mabel said. "Tomorrow we'll all go fishing! Grunkle Stan, you should help me make sandwiches to take for lunch and stuff!"

"Oh, oh, I'll help too! I'm supes great at making sandwiches dawg!" Soos exclaimed happily, raising his hand as if he were volunteering and waiting to get called on.

"Done!" Mabel said.

Bill sighed. _'Well if Shooting Star has already decided that we're all going then there's really no way for me to get out of it, is there?'_

Wendy looked at the round clock hanging on the wall in the living room. "It's getting pretty late: My dad doesn't care what time I go home, but I should probably be going."

"Oh yeah," Dipper said, noticing that it was almost ten. "It's way past Bill's bedtime. C'mon," he said to the blonde who still looked like he was about to pass out again right there on the floor.

"His... Bedtime?" Wendy asked and cracked up laughing.

Before she could make any further comments Bill interrupted. "Yes, yes, Bill Cipher, ancient dream demon, has a bedtime. _Hilarious,_ " he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and leaving the room, a chuckling Dipper following behind him as Wendy continued to laugh all the way out the front door.

Bill went immediately to his cage and lifted his quilt, wrapping it around himself. He paused when he was about to sit down as he noticed that Dipper was standing, holding his cage door, looking somewhat uncertain.

"Pine Tree?" Bill asked questioningly.

Dipper frowned. _'It actually kind of feels wrong now, having him sleep in a cage...'_ Dipper thought to himself.

He forced a smile and said "goodnight Bill" before quietly shutting the cage door.

"Goodnight Pine Tree," Bill responded to Dipper's retreating back, his head tilted slightly to the side in confusion. _'I wonder what that was about...'_ He yawned, decided not to worry about it, and laid down on his cage floor.

 _'I don't want to have to lock him up at night,'_ Dipper thought, _'but it's still completely necessary. Bill's been known in the past for getting people to trust him and then stabbing them in the back. Bill seems different in this human form, but not even he can be sure that none of his old habits will spring back up out of the blue. As wrong as it might_ _ **feel**_ _, Bill will just have to keep sleeping in the cage, at least for now.'_

Dipper sighed and went to the kitchen to help Mabel prepare sandwiches.

 **A/N: Another perfectly-average-in-length chapter for you guys. X3**

 **This was kind of like part one of the Friday the Thirteenth plot. There will probably end up being a total of three parts spanning over three or four chapters. We'll just have to see how long it ends up being: As I've been writing this story, I've noticed that things tend to end up being much longer than I originally think they'll be. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing... Mostly good, I** _ **think...**_ **XD**

 **Thanks for the favorites, follows, views, reads, and reviews! I hope you're all still enjoying the story! ^^**

 **P.S. This just occurred to me: Bill Cipher has a bedtime. Bill Cipher... A bedtime... I did that. *Uncontrollable Laughter* Since when does that even _work_?! Hahahaha.**


	29. Chapter 28: Shenanigans

**Chapter 28: Shenanigans**

At eleven Ante Meridiem, an hour before noon, everything necessary for a proper fishing day out on the lake was packed into Stan's car and Soos' truck: The fishing poles, packed lunches, bait, and cameras. Everything... Except for the people. And why were the people not sitting in their respective seats?

Because Bill Cipher had woken up that morning and realized that he was going to have to ride in a car with _Stanford,_ on Friday the Thirteenth, a notoriously unlucky day... Needless to say, he was not at all pleased.

Bill was currently furiously scrubbing away at the tears in his eyes that he neither wanted nor could force away by his own willpower. ' _Just get in the damn car already Cipher!'_ He thought to himself furiously, attempting to get a running start and jump into the car but as soon as he neared the entrance to the metal death trap his body would go rigid and jerk back away in a frenzy.

" _Honestly,_ Cipher! What the _hell_ is the matter with you?!" Ford asked in exasperation. He had to admit to himself that it was somewhat humorous, but also startling and disconcerting to watch as Bill seemingly struggled with his own body, trying to force it into the car only to have it reject the idea and force itself away again.

 _'Does this body have a mind of its own?!'_ Bill wondered as he once again tried to force himself into the car, this time Dipper and Mabel gently pushing at his back to get him in as his hands grasped the door frame and worked against them: At this moment he greatly resembled a cat when it's being forced into a bathtub, he simply _did not want to go in,_ the world be damned! _'Is this what having a true phobia feels like? What a concept! Do I really have amaxophobia? A fear of riding in cars so extreme that my body fights me on its own accord?'_ Bill couldn't think of any other explanations. _'What a stupid fear to have! Though not entirely irrational. Car accidents are the number one cause of premature deaths in the United States...'_

"Maybe, Grunkle Ford," Mabel directed to the old man sitting in the driver's seat, "it would help if you weren't driving... or if you rode in the truck with Soos..."

Ford stared at her from the driver's seat for a few moments as Dipper, Stan, and Bill still struggled to force Bill into the car, a frustrated growl and very quiet curse words streaming nearly continuously from the small blonde's mouth. Surely Dipper and Stan could overpower him and force him in if they really had to, but they didn't want to cause Bill any harm, and even though they _looked_ like they were trying to force him in, they both knew that unless Bill managed to get in on his own he would cause a fuss the whole way to the lake.

Ford sighed a deep, frustrated huff and got out of the car. "I'm riding with Soos," he decided and stomped over to Soos' old truck, hopping into the passenger's seat.

Stan, Dipper, and Bill were all watching him as he approached the truck, Dipper and Stan still pushing at Bill's back and Bill's arms and legs still braced against the metal frame. As soon as the door to the truck closed, it was as if Bill's arms and legs had lost all strength and he, Dipper, and Stan were all suddenly falling into the backseat of the car.

"Well I guess that worked," Dipper commented as he struggled out from under Stan, sitting on the seat near the right window as Bill righted himself in the center seat, Mabel climbing in and closing the door after Stan had exited the back and sat down in the driver's seat.

Wendy sat in the passenger's seat. "Hey, Ford said he and I were switching vehicles and that I should ride with you guys," she said, buckling up in the front seat. She crossed her legs and arms and reclined her chair as far as it could go without squishing Dipper. She looked back at Bill, who had just buckled himself into the middle-back seat; he still had tear tracks on his cheeks, though his distress seemed to have declined greatly. "You really hate cars," she observed mildly.

"And my brother," Stan added as he started the car and began to follow Soos' old truck down the road. "Combining the two probably wasn't a good idea to begin with."

"No kidding," Dipper snorted.

Bill couldn't help but feel embarrassed, red tinting his cheeks as he stared out the open window to his left. _'Stupid car... and Ford... and human fears and emotions...'_ He thought to himself silently. The rest of the car ride was quiet, the roar of the wind billowing through the open windows in and out of the car's cabin making it too loud to speak. Wendy never asked why Stan was actually going the speed limit of forty instead of his usual sixty-five and Bill tried very hard to breathe deeply and not freak out over how very, _very_ fast they were going... Or, at least, in his mind they were going much faster than a human ever should go. Humans couldn't run like cheetahs for a reason, you know!

It took less than thirty minutes, but Bill was more than ready to escape the confines of the car by the time they were stopping near the side of the lake. He bolted from the car as if the car had spat him out. Mabel giggled and began playing with Bill's hair while Stan instructed Dipper on pulling their luggage out of the car.

" _Mabel~_ " Bill whined as she finished clipping his hair up in that pretty little golden sparkly bow from their trip to the clothing store shortly after Bill arrived in town. "I told you I wouldn't wear that..." He pouted and went to grab at it, Mabel lightly smacking his hands away at every attempt. "I look like one of those ugly little Troll Dolls you humans were obsessed with in the early sixties," he complained, pouting at the way his hair was standing straight up like a mountain atop his head, clipped together with the plush golden monstrosity.

"No way!" Mabel protested. "Those things _were_ ugly, I've seen em'!" Wendy was stifling her laughter in the background, earning her a mild glare from Bill. "You're super adorable!"

Bill continued to try to un-shape his hair from the volcano-esque design, but eventually gave in as he noticed Ford steering a decently-sized vessel across the water to where they were on the beach.

"I went and got the Stan O' War out of the shed," Ford clarified.

"You keep it here at the lake when you aren't out at sea?" Dipper asked, to which Stanford nodded in response. He turned and faced Bill.

"You," he said, pointing one of his six right-hand's fingers in Bill's direction. "Don't touch anything. None of the levers, buttons, not the steering wheel, nothing!" Bill frowned, glaring slightly in that way that he was unaware made Soos, Mabel, and occasionally Stan gush.

"What could he possibly do? It's just a boat," Mabel said, approaching the vessel. She clambered onboard with some assistance from Soos and reached towards an oval, magenta button. "Ooh, this one's pretty."

"Don't press it," Ford warned, making Mabel pause. "This is the ship Stanley and I take out onto the open seas when we hunt for various monsters and paranormal locations across the globe. It's got a number of gadgets, weapons, and inventions installed into it. That's why you shouldn't touch anything, and since Bill wasn't around when I made this ship, he won't be able to navigate the various gadgets either; he doesn't know where everything is or what it does."

"Sounds fair enough," Bill said, his shoes alternating between scrambling on the side of the metal boat's frame and resting against the sand, his hands clasping the edge of the hull. He was trying, in vain, to scramble his way up onto the deck. Stan rolled his eyes and reached over the port side, grabbing underneath Bill's arms and gently lifting him up onto the solid deck floor.

Once on the boat, Bill noted that the Stan O' War Mark Two was much nicer than the original Stan O' War, though it was still not anything someone could describe as luxurious or overly expensive. It had a decent metal hull that Bill could tell had seen some wear over the last nine months, rust in areas proving that it had been out to sea on numerous occasions: Only a sea-faring vessel would rust as much as this over the course of a short nine months. Bill glanced down the short cabin stairwell located towards the stern of the ship, noting that there was no doubt a small living space below deck that Stanley and Stanford could live in while out at sea for weeks on end.

"This is way nicer than my old fishing boat," Soos commented as he inspected the fishing gear and coolers. "Like, totally more cool, Mr. Pines. What kinda bizzaro things do the controls do?" He asked, pointing to the various installed buttons, levers, and knobs on a few panels near the steering wheel.

Ford shrugged. "Oh, you know, the usual. Laser cannons, hidden compartments containing various lab equipment, dart guns, harpoons, tasers, radars, all the necessities of a mystery ship."

"This o'er here is my favorite compartment," Stan said, walking towards the benches installed on the boat. He lifted the bottom of one of the benches to reveal a cooler stocked to the brim with beers of various sizes, shapes, brands, and flavors.

"That compartment actually came with the boat, you know, Stanley. We just opted to fill it with beverages," Ford smiled.

"Yeah, which makes it ma favorite!"

Mabel giggled and walked over, carrying the basket she'd packed their lunch in. She dropped in the various juice boxes and sodas she and Soos had packed.

"Sweet," Wendy commented, picking out a beer, which Stan instantly snatched from her hand and replaced with a Pitt Cola. "Aw, c'mon! I thought this trip was gonna be fun," Wendy complained lightly, none-the-less opening the soda and reclining on top of one of the white nylon benches.

Stan glanced up as Mabel, Bill, and Dipper clambered on top of the cabin and peered around the lake through the telescope mounted to the top of the cabin, Dipper yelling a few questions down to his bespeckled Great Uncle about which antennas mounted to the mast did what. It was at this time that Mabel slapped her fishing hat onto her head, gifted to her by her Grunkle Stan last summer almost exactly one year prior, and she replaced Dipper's cap with his own hat reading "DIPPY," Dipper not even pausing in his conversation with Ford. Stan snapped his fingers, having just remembered something he'd previously forgotten.

"Hey Ford!" Stan said, slapping a piece of cheap plastic-like cloth onto his brother's head. It covered his eyes and Ford paused his conversation with Dipper to lift it into his hands, inspecting it.

"Why does it say 'FORb'?" Stanford asked, smiling at his elder twin.

"Eh, the 'D's just on backwards!" Stan waved it off.

"You ran out of uppercase 'D's didn't you?" Ford laughed and put the hat on all the same.

Stan smirked and, with an almost predator-like smirk, snuck up behind where Mabel was still showing Bill various things through the mounted telescope. Before Bill even knew Stan was there, a piece of cloth was being slapped down onto his head.

"What the _hell_?" Bill began, looking up as the sound of stifled laughter filled the air. He frowned in confusion and pulled the cloth off his head, examining it. "How many times do I have to tell you humans that I. Am. Not. A. _Dorito._ " Bill complained, glaring (pouting) down at the yellow capital lettering stretching along what he presumed to be the front of the hat, spelling out "DORITO BILL" with a backwards 'R,' slanted 'O's, and a crooked second 'L'.

"Why does his hat have a 'D' and not mine?" Ford asked, but was largely ignored.

Bill sighed, rolled his eyes, and put the fishing hat on his head. "Fine, I'll wear it, but only because it covers Mabel's ridiculous bow-clip."

Of course Mabel would have none of that and, five minutes later, they were setting off towards the center of the lake, Bill sporting a tan fishing hat on his head and a plush golden bow clipped into the hair over his right ear.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed!**

 **Remember: R** **eviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram,** _ **buy gold**_ **, BYE!**

 **(And I don't mean Level Of ViolencE. Haha.)**


	30. Chapter 29: Little

**Chapter 29: Little**

 **A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reviewing, viewing, following, and favoriting this story! I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

By the time they were out past the island and into what Stan claimed was "his" fishing spot, it was getting to be about noon and a half hour. The sun was high in the sky and, as was a rare occurrence in Gravity Falls, there was not a cloud in the sky and no mist over the water: The line of sight was clear in every direction, limited only by the slope of the land and the trees towering up from the forest.

Wendy didn't need to be told twice when Stan told her that she could pick a fishing pole and try her luck. Before thirty minutes was over Wendy had caught a decent five fish and was lounging once more on the benches, combing through her streaks and status updates on her phone. Dipper was still impatiently waiting for fish to bite while Mabel's largest catch to date had been Soos, who she ended up entangling in her fishing line and now she was braiding the silver line so that Soos could at least "look pretty while he's wrapped up". Soos didn't seem to mind, opting to laugh and let Mabel tie the line around him in a bow.

For the last ten minutes Ford and Stan had been lightly arguing about why Ford wouldn't let his mischievous twin brother snatch fish from the tourists. Bill just sort of sat back on the cabin's roof and watched. He didn't want to get involved; he just wanted to observe. He almost felt like his old self again, even if only for a few moments, watching everyone laugh and go about their day, enjoying each other's company while he watched silently from the sidelines. Bill told himself that he preferred it this way, preferred to just watch... But he really wasn't so sure. Now that he knew what it was like to be involved, he kind of _liked_ it. It was certainly less boring than just _watching_.

When three o'clock finally rolled around, Mabel pushed for a lunch break. After cutting Soos free with a pair of wire cutters kept in the ship's toolbox, Mabel poked her Grunkle Stan in the side.

"Can we go back to shore for a picnic? Soos, Dippy and I prepared a lunch last night!" Mabel held up a woven, tan, wooden picnic basket, as if to prove her point.

Stanley nodded. "Sure! We could eat here on the boat, but there are grills at the beach and I can cook up some of these here fish we just caught!" Stan said, motioning to Ford who reeled in his fishing line and started up the boat's engine.

"You mean the fish Wendy caught?" Dipper commented. "I didn't get a single bite! How'd you do it Wendy?" Dipper inquired, reeling in his fishing line as Stanford made for the shore. As the line came in, Dipper noticed something strange on the end of it.

"Hey Mabel?"

"Yes Dippy-Fresh?" Dipper sent her a particularly hard glare before rolling his eyes and shaking his head, focusing on the immediate topic at hand.

"When you put the bait on my line..."

"Yup?" Mabel said, looking innocent and clueless.

"Why'd you put a little plastic bottle full of sprinkles?"

"Because they're my favorite, so fish must like 'em too!" Dipper face-palmed.

"Why would they eat a plastic bottle?!"

"They can just open the bottle silly!" Mabel stated this as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world.

"I know you know that that's not how that works, Mabel." Dipper leveled her a I-Know-You-Aren't-That-Dumb look.

Mabel smiled. "True. But the face you're making right now is precious," she said, snapping a picture with her phone camera. "Click-click!" Dipper groaned and Bill laughed in the background, almost falling off the cabin's roof and onto the deck, leaning against the mast for support.

Arriving back at the shore, Ford cut the engine as the Stan O' War II rammed up slightly against the lake's shoreline. Stan made a B-line for the nearest grill, as if trying to claim it before anyone else, though there was no one else around.

Soos nearly fell off the boat, tripping on the scattered remains of the line he'd been tangled in. Wendy barely managed to oh-so-nonchalantly catch him by the back of his life preserver and slow his descent enough to allow him to catch himself before he could face-plant on the somewhat sandy beach. She herself casually hopped down and made her way to where Mabel was laying out anything but the large stereotypical red-and-white checkered picnic blanket most people would expect to see. This blanket was a monstrosity of patches, colorful bits of cloth, crude depictions of various animals, what appeared to be a knitted section picturing Waddles' face, and sewn-up tears.

"Like it?" Mabel asked the red-head. "I made it myself!"

"Yeah, no kiddin'," Wendy said quietly. Still, she shrugged and sat down. As long as it performed its purpose without fail, then it was well enough made in her book.

Stan was just setting some fish over the lit grill and the others were pulling sandwiches out of the picnic basket when they were all reminded of a particularly short being who was along for the day's and subsequent night's events. They were all reminded of Bill's presence when they heard a dull thump sound and undignified, involuntary squeak. They looked over just in time to see Bill standing up off of the sandy shore and dusting himself off, trying to pretend that nothing had happened. People laughed, though Mabel had the decency to apologize to Bill for not having someone help him out of the boat. It was, admittedly, a bit too tall for him to be able to climb in and out of without assistance, and due to the easy shifting of sand he'd been unable to keep his balance upon impact with the ground when he opted to jump from the ship instead of ask for help. Mabel motioned him over and he came obediently, sitting on the thick and bizarre quilt after eyeing it for a few moments.

Mabel handed him a sandwich. "Peanut butter, jelly, and sprinkles: A classic Mabel's Spectacular Sprinkle PB&J! Perfect for a picnic!" Bill smiled at her as a form of thanks, grimaced when he remembered the whole sprinkles-sparkles-and-pizza fiasco, and managed to force himself to take a bite of the sandwich, pleased when he discovered that it was still rather good and that the whole pizza event hadn't turned him off of sprinkles for good.

Mabel herself had a 'MSSPB&J' (Bill would never get used to the length of Mabel's strange names for her concoctions: He was glad he'd yet to try her Mabel Juice), Dipper and Soos each had a ham and cheese sandwich, Wendy went straight for the chips, knowing her physique could handle the junk food, and Ford and Stan opted to eat the fish Stanley had just grilled. Both Ford and Stan had become accustomed to eating fish in a number of simply prepared ways during their several months out at sea. Fishing was one of their favorite pass-times on the open ocean and particularly near the shores of various countries and states.

Soos went for a second sandwich, being pressured into having Mabel's last MSSPB&J, and Bill was also forced by Mabel to eat more, this time allowing her to shove three M&M cookies into his hands. He tried to refuse the offered sweets, but knew that Mabel would have none of it and soon gave in after she attempted to shove one of the cookies directly into his mouth. It was while Mabel was in the process of trying to force-feed him that another person joined their little party.

No one noticed a small but luxurious blue vessel park itself next to the Stan O' War II. Mabel was waving the cookie directly in Bill's face.

"C'mon, eat it, you need the sugar!"

"Shooting Star, this is hardly the way to-" He was cut off as a cookie entered his mouth while he was speaking. He bit, chewed, and swallowed. "Really, was that necessary?" He groaned when he saw Mabel had been taking pictures.

"My, my, my! What's this lil' lady friend o' mine I see here, come back to me after all this time? Why Mabel, feedin' another man besides myself? Don't tell me this is your boyfriend!"

There was a collective groan, only Bill managing to appear neutral as Gideon Gleeful was carried off the blue, expensive little boat by Ghost Eyes and set easily on the ground, clad in a red-and-white striped bathing suit. Mabel noticed the slightly nervous stare Bill was leveling at Gideon, Gideon staring back at him with equal parts jealousy and curiosity.

"No offence," Mabel said to Bill before looking back to Gideon, "but eww, no, no, we aren't dating. Just... No."

Gideon smiled and his jealousy resolved itself to a more perturbing and flirtatious appearance. "Oh, good! He's a bit young for you anyway, wouldn't ya say, Sugar Cakes?"

" _You'd_ think so," Mabel responded mildly cryptically. _'The irony,'_ Mabel thought to herself. Bill was anything but _young,_ at least by human standards.

"So why are you crashing our picnic?" Dipper broke in, clearly still distrustful of the Gleeful child. Sure he'd ended up helping them during Weirdmageddon, but Gideon still clearly had the googly eyes for his sister, and that put the white-haired little freak at the top of Dipper's enemy list. Heck, at this moment in time, Bill himself might be underneath Gideon on the list of enemies...

One glance at Bill and the fierce intelligence hidden within his golden eyes resolved Dipper to leave him at the top of the list for the time being. Gideon would have to stay in second place for now. Bill was still a rather likely threat.

"I just saw that this here double pair o' Pines Twins was back in town from across the lake and thought I'd, oh, I don't know, stop on by and say howdy." He winked at Mabel, making her involuntarily shudder. Once upon a time it wouldn't have been so bad, but there's something about him trying to kill your brother that can just turn you off of a man... boy... not that she'd ever liked him in the way he wanted to begin with.

"We don't have enough food for ya," Stan put in. "Scram. Don't make me get out the broom!"

Gideon held his hands up in mock surrender. "No, no, it's alright, I wouldn't want to intrude anyway. Though it seems someone already has..." Gideon looked to Bill again and Bill met his gaze, continuing to remain silent. Chances were extremely high that, if Bill were to speak, Gideon would realize who he was immediately: Maybe even have flashbacks to a triangle demon telling him to dance, right? So Bill kept his mouth shut.

"Not much of a talker, is he?" Gideon asked, rubbing his double chin in consideration.

"Goodbye Gideon," Mabel interjected, urging him along.

"Alright, alright, I'm goin' my Darlin' Mabel," Gideon gave in, approaching his own ship with Ghost Eyes close behind him, lifting him up onto the deck. "'Till next time, Pines and friends!" He set off of the shore and back out to the center of the lake.

Bill snatched the cookies from Mabel's hand before she could force-feed him again, nibbling on them to satisfy her.

"Do you think he recognized you?" Mabel asked.

Bill scoffed and shook his head. "That little dolt? No. If the Baby Man had realized it was me, you would of heard a lot more screaming and complaining. Probably would have seen some violence too, now that he's got a bunch of ex-inmates following him around. He didn't recognize me."

Once across the lake, Gideon looked back at the group of Pines. He snapped and held up his hand, allowing Ghost Eyes to set in his chubby-fingered grasp a pair of binoculars. He looked through them at the gathered family on the shore just finishing up their lunch. "Somethin' just ain't right about that yellow-haired kid. Mabel said they weren't datin' but if they aren't together then who is he?"

Gideon watched for a few moments more as the Pines and Co. began to pack up their things and head back to their boat. As the small blond kid was lifted onto the vessel by Stanford, Gideon got a good look at the hat he was wearing, similar to those of Dipper's and Mabel's.

"His name is Dorito Bill?" Gideon wondered aloud for a moment before his eyes widened and he dropped the binoculars. " _He's Bill Cipher!_ "

The Stan O' War II set off, back out onto the lake.

 **A/N: My little friend came to talk to me at one point after she read this chapter and while I was editing it for the third or so time. She came to tell me one of my favorite shows, Gilligan's Island, was on, to ask me if I wanted to watch. Only thing is, she accidentally asked if I wanted to watch "Gideon's Island" with her. Lol. XD**

 **Thanks for reading, and remember! R** **eviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram,** _ **buy gold**_ **, BYE! XD**


	31. Chapter 30: Salty

**Chapter 30: Salty**

 **A/N: Yay, time for fun mystery/action events! I hope this chapter came out alright!**

 **Oh! And to the lovely guest reviewer going by the name of " Feelingnostalgia," I am glad that you're enjoying the story and that it stands out from the other Human!Bill fics. Unfortunately, I only received part of your review: I'm guessing that FanFic cut off the tail end of it because of the length/character limit. I'd love to know what else you intended to say, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story!**

 **That goes for everyone: I hope you all enjoy! Drop me a review maybe? Yeah? ;3**

" _Luck is the residue of design." ~Branch Rickey_

Bill had to admit that showing up at the lake on Friday the Thirteenth with hardly a strategy for attack on the demon inhabiting the lake was a poor plan, of little to no design, and therefore an invitation for all sorts of bad luck.

Bill was currently seated at what had been deemed his "usual spot" on the roof of the cabin aboard the decently-sized vessel dubbed "The Stan O' War II". He was peering up at the sky, watching as the sun slowly began to slip closer and closer to the cliff line, and a mist began to form over the lake. Due west was the sun just beginning to lose its bottom curve over the side of the cliffs, and due east was the pearly white shine of a full moon just slightly peeking up over the trees on the horizon.

"Almost time?" Ford asked, noting the way Bill was watching the scarlet sky turn to a dark blue, and the fog that descended, growing thicker with every passing moment in which the sun set lower beyond the horizon. Bill nodded in response.

"Can you take us closer to where the falls meet the lake? We'll be safest there," Bill directed to Stan. Stan nodded and approached the ship's steering mechanisms, Soos and Wendy pulling in their fishing lines as the boat began to move.

Mabel and Dipper clambered up onto the cabin roof to sit by Bill. For a second Mabel thought Bill was angry as his golden hair glowed red under the dying last rays of sunlight, but she quickly dismissed the idea, noting instead the mostly neutral expression he was wearing that just barely couldn't hide the fear shining in his eyes. She smiled at him.

"Thanks for coming along," she said. "I can tell you're worried." Bill glanced at her before looking back at the quickly setting sun.

"We should be fine…. The funny thing is, I don't know whether I should be more afraid of the demon killing me or of it killing one of you." Mabel and Dipper looked surprised at that. "Don't misunderstand me," Bill warned. "I only mean that if the demon kills me, at least I know the death will be rather quick, though drowning still wouldn't be my first choice in a way to die. I'm more worried that if one of you were to die, Stanford would be the one to kill me afterwards, likely not painlessly or torture-free."

"I wouldn't let that happen," Mabel said without hesitation.

"You can't stop him if you're dead."

Mabel punched Bill on the arm, though extremely lightly so as not to upset any bruises he could still have remaining, though they should have been healed by then. "Nothing too horrible will happen," she said certainly. "You know why?"

Bill stared at her skeptically, but didn't voice any questions, letting her continue on her own.

"As long as we listen to you, everything will turn out alright," Mabel stated matter-of-factly.

Dipper nodded. "You already gave us a major tip on defense, and we aren't looking to try and kill the demon, so we don't have to provoke it. We just wanna get a good look at it," Dipper said, pulling out a camera as if to prove his point. "I'm sure you can manage to keep us all alive for at least that."

Bill sighed. "Yeah, well, I guess we'll find out. The moon is full tonight," he said, looking up at the round moon now half visible over the trees. "That could be a good thing, or a bad thing. Either way, it's a bit of a wild card, another factor to take into consideration."

The boat approached the base of the falls, getting within a half-dozen meters of it but not proceeding any closer, not wanting to get caught in the downfall of water over the cliffs or the downward suction in the current near the base of the falls that it generated. Both could prove potentially harmful to the modestly-sized vessel. Ramming through the falls at high speed was one thing: Idling by the base was something entirely different and more potentially harmful.

Bill hopped off of the cabin and approached the bow of the ship, stopping at the edge of the hull closest to the waterfall.

"What are you doing?" Ford asked.

"You have, essentially, tasked me with keeping all of you safe," Bill said. At that moment he could hear the falls thundering down onto the lake's surface, but with the thick mist that had risen within the last few minutes blocking his view, he couldn't actually see the waterfall. He reached out over the front of the boat with his left hand and, as if by magic, the mist around his arm moved away and, while the rest of the lake remained hidden under the deep cloud cover, the fog blocking the waterfall from Bill's view began to rapidly clear. "This is my attempt at fulfilling that task."

"What are you doing?" Dipper asked. "Did you clear the fog?" He sounded mildly worried at the thought that Bill still had this much power, but as nervous as Dipper felt, Ford was clearly much more distressed.

Noting the mildly panic-stricken look on Ford's face, Bill clarified: "No, I didn't clear it, the waterfall's spirit did. It recognizes me. I'm speaking to it now."

"You can actually communicate with it?" Ford asked, relaxing only slightly.

"Ye- Well, no. It's a bit like a deaf person ordering a pizza over the phone. There's no way to tell whether it's worked or not until the pizza either comes or doesn't. Though…. In this case it's also possible that the pizza man is mad at me and hears me but doesn't deliver."

"…. What?" Soos looked confused.

Bill sighed. "I'm mentally speaking to the falls, but in this body I can't hear if it's responding. I'm simply mustering up all the mental capacity this brain is capable of and using it to ask the spirit to clear the fog so that we can see better, for safety reasons. Of course, if it holds a grudge for Weirdmageddon it may not respond. Or perhaps this brain is incapable of speaking loudly enough for it to hear my thoughts. It's…. Also possible that I'm virtually screaming at it," Bill admitted. "I really can't tell."

Mabel laughed. "I can just imagine the waterfall cringing as you scream at it!" Dipper scoffed in good humor.

Bill blushed. "Erm, yes, well, I don't really have a choice right now. Besides, it's also possible I'm getting through as barely an audible whisper."

"I'm betting not," Stan said, jutting his thumb towards the lake behind them where the fog was clearing at such a swift pace that within ten seconds the visibility had increased beyond the lake itself and allowed for sight unhindered by anything but darkness and terrain. It was as if a sudden and forceful gust of wind had swept away the mist, but not a single leaf ruffled in the treetops. If Bill had been in his own triangular form, he would have heard the Waterfall's overenthusiastic sigh of relief as Bill retracted his arm and stopped projecting his thoughts to the spirit.

"If anything goes horribly wrong," Bill said to the group in general, "head straight for the cave behind the fall and wait until day. Don't flee to the shore; the demon has some influence on the edges of the lake for some distance onto the land. The closest available safe spot is behind the waterfall; the demon never goes in there because the water spirit blocks its entrance. Of course, we can't stay in there the entire time if we want to see the demon. When you realize that this is all a terrible idea and that risking your life isn't worth the excitement, that's where you need to head."

"Expecting something to go horribly wrong, Bill?" Ford asked suspiciously.

Bill scoffed. "In all actuality? Yeah. You and your lot dragged me out here on the worst possible night to be on the lake. Do you honestly expect things to go smoothly, Fordsie?" Ford frowned and rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn't comment. Perhaps, logically, they should _all_ be expecting something bad to happen….

Bill motioned for Stan to head towards the center of the lake again, closer to Scuttlebutt Island. They stopped in the middle of the lake some minutes later, as the moon was rising fully over the treetops.

They waited…. And waited….

Mabel groaned loudly and leaned dramatically over the edge of the ship, making Bill nervous as her hair lightly brushed the surface of the water ever-so-gently. "I. Am so. BORED! When's it coming, Bill?"

Bill shrugged. "How should I know? I can't read its mind…. At least, not right now. What exactly do you want me to do, summon it?"

Dipper snapped. "Yes!"

Bill blanched. "Wha-NO!"

Wendy sighed and groaned, setting her tenth and final magazine down. "Okay, I just ran out of reading material, so yeah, let's hurry up and see the demon." Wendy walked over to a nearby bucket of sea salt: They had already each stuffed their pockets with salt and had sprinkled it over their heads for extra measure. Grabbing an extra handful, she threw it into the still water near the boat and, after throwing a peace-sign salute to the others, she jumped into the water.

Everyone blanched and Bill face-palmed, groaning a long-suffering sort of sigh.

"Oh, geez, WENDY!" Dipper yelled, rushing to the edge of the boat and making as if to jump in after her, Stan and Soos catching him and holding him back.

"Oh gosh, oh jeez, oh man! What do we do?! She shouldn't have done that, right?!" Mabel inquired enthusiastically of Bill, staring at him pleadingly.

Bill motioned with his hands for everyone to calm down, as if asking them to lower the level of panic by about five tiers. "Relax a little, would ya? There's plenty of salt with her, so she'll _probably_ be okay. It's still stupid and reckless and completely NOT something I would have suggested, but she'll be fine…. Most likely…."

Everyone peered overboard at where Wendy had submerged and waited. A few moments later, her head broke the surface of the water.

"Wendy! Are you okay?" Dipper asked.

Wendy laughed and waved off his concern with a few movements of her hand. "Yeah, totally. I just got bored and figured I'd play bait." The group could easily see her, her wet red hair shining under the bright light of the full moon that now had reached its peak in the sky, hanging directly overhead like a thousand-gigawatt lamp, casting an unearthly pale light over them and their surroundings.

Bill flinched as a sudden nauseous feeling overcame him; one that, judging by the way they both wrinkled their noses, Dipper and Mabel were feeling too. Bill knew what this sensation meant: Children could often sense when the water demon approached because it, in particular, enjoyed feasting on the souls of young adults and children. Bill tried not to dwell on the idea that he was sensing the demon in the exact same manner as any other child would, as if he wasn't himself over a trillion years old….

"Eh, Wendy, I think you should get out of the water now," Mabel said nervously.

"Why? It hasn't shown up yet," the redhead argued.

"WENDY GET OUT OF THE WATER!" Dipper practically screamed at her, grasping the edge of the boat and peering out at the still water around them. A few ripples on the white-bathed surface caught Dipper's eye to their left.

Wendy, mildly startled by Dipper's urgent tone, grasped onto the side of the boat to pull herself up.

"Alright, alright, be chill dude." She made to lift herself up onto the boat, but paused as she heard a swish of water and gasps from those on the boat above her. She turned her head to the left, looking back over her shoulder and seeing for the first time a hazy image of the water demon. At the moment it appeared to be nothing more than a black mass, a volume of water moving within the rest of the liquid that held a darker tint to it, and a bad aura. Wendy's eyes widened and she clasped the edge of the boat tightly, not moving, as the dark liquid mass approached. She thought for a moment that it was going to spring out and grab her, dragging her down into the dark depths below, but no such event occurred. Instead the shadowy water became turbulent and stopped a mere five feet from her, shirking away, driven off by the remnants of salt clinging to the water molecules, invisible to the naked eye but clearly still present, as evident by the demon's reaction. It circled in a radius five feet away from her, going as far as slinking up underneath the boat, rocking it a bit as the liquid mass moved. It kept away, driven off by the salt still seeping out of Wendy's pockets and lacing the water around her.

Wendy was startled when Ford and Stan suddenly grasped her arms and aided in lifting her up, reminding her that while, yes, it appeared that the salt was doing its job, it was still best not to tempt the fates.

"So the salt works," Wendy commented, turning to look at Bill as she stood sopping wet on the deck, a cool breeze making her shiver lightly, but the night air was warm enough that she could handle it, and she was accustomed to cold winters in Gravity Falls.

Bill crossed his arms and huffed. "Of course it does. Did you think I was lying to you?" He sounded defensive, but instead of reassuring him that this wasn't the case, Wendy let the subject rest.

Dipper and Ford leaned over the side of the boat, peering down at the shadow moving along around the boat, circling like a shark. "Does it always look like this? Like the shadow of a lake monster that isn't there?" Dipper asked, snapping a picture with his disposable camera that he doubted would come out very clearly.

Bill shook his head. "No, just usually. It tends to look just like any other water, but a shade or two darker. If it were a puddle you'd just think it a little murky pool. Only when it's moving about in clearer water can you see the difference. Sometimes, occasionally, it will take another form: It can mold itself into any particular shape, though it can't change its color or make itself be any more solid than condensed water can be. If you touched it, it would be just like stroking the surface of the lake, even if it was walking about in the shape of an animal. It's been known to be partial to the shape of a rather large water snake."

"Can it, I don't know, infect more of the water to make itself bigger?" Stan asked.

Bill shook his head. "No. Perhaps somewhere else it might, but the water here belongs to the waterfall spirit. Its mass is set and limited, but its volume is rather flexible. That is to say, it can make itself appear bigger by expanding, but the more it expands the less control it has and the weaker it is, the easier it is to break away from it. If it wanted to, it could also condense itself into a smaller, more solid form, but it can't condense to the point of being actually solid. It can also split itself into multiple parts, so watch out for that. As long as we stick together it shouldn't be much of a threat; it can't effectively surround us while we're in such a large group."

Mabel peered over the edge, standing close to her brother, but she didn't lean over the side of the boat like Dipper, Ford, and now Soos, Stan, and Wendy as well were doing. She wasn't scared of the demon, exactly, but more she didn't want to risk falling in and getting wet.

Bill glared as he noticed that the demon was decreasing in size, the shadow growing smaller but also faster, cutting through the water with more ease. It disappeared under the port side of the boat where nearly everyone was currently standing by the edge, most of them leaning over to watch it disappear underneath the vessel. While the others were still leaning over the edge, Bill turned around and saw the black mass reappear by the starboard side. Bill's eyes widened when the demon went a ways, made a U-turn, and began streaking towards the ship at a hasty pace.

"Get away from the edge!" Bill ordered, but it was too late. By the time the words were being registered in the minds of those onboard, the demon was already slamming into the bottom starboard hull of the ship, making the boat tip dangerously to one side. A combination of the demon hitting the underside and the fact that everyone had been leaning over the other side of the ship made it tilt, first by a few meters, and then far enough that water was wetting the deck. Within moments, the ship capsized, everyone bracing themselves for a brisk evening swim. The boat hobbled on the surface of the lake, not sinking, but now completely up-side-down.

Wendy was the first to break the surface of the lake, being young and a rather spectacular swimmer. Soos was next, and almost immediately after came the younger Pines twins. Wendy clambered onto the bottom-turned-topside ship, reaching back towards the water to help Soos and Dipper onto the capsized vessel, Mabel soon being pulled up by her twin onto the gray underside of the boat.

The four younger people looked around and sighed in relief when Ford and Stan emerged, making immediately for the ship and clambering up.

"Well, the Stan O' War's certainly seen better days," Stanley said, scratching his head and peering down at the capsized boat beneath him.

"It's also seen worse," Ford comforted as he looked around. "Does anyone see the demon?"

"Which one?" Stan joked.

Ford rolled his eyes. "The water demon, the immediate threat, of course."

"It probably won't come near for a while," Dipper said, rubbing his chin in contemplation. "Our bucket of salt would have spilled all over the area; it should stay clear with so much salt in the water around us. That's probably why we all made it back to the ship."

"Except Bill," Mabel commented, looking nervous. "The demon can't of gotten him, right? He had salt in his pockets! And like Dipper said, the bucket of salt was spilt too. So shouldn't he be here already?" Everyone looked around and watched the surrounding waters, wondering what, indeed, the blonde could be doing taking so long in reemerging.

"Uhhh, hey dudes?" Soos asked. Everyone looked at him.

"Yeah Soos?" Dipper asked.

Soos frowned. "Can Bill actually _swim_?"

Silence followed.

 **A/N: Well, hope you enjoyed the chapter! I had a little bit more difficulty writing it…. Oh well, hopefully it still came** **out** **alright!**

 **I'll tell you guys what: A little fan of mine got it into her head that it'd be a great idea to message ALEX HIRSCH on** **Tumblr** **and Twitter and tell him to read my story. Now the anxiety is just killing me! I'm over here freaking out like "What if he reads it? What if he doesn't read it? What if he likes it? If he doesn't like it? What if he says he likes it but I don't believe him and think he's just trying to spare my feelings? What if he thinks I'm a total idiot dweeb?! Would he ever even think that, he seems so nice…." And to make matters worse, my little friend is planning to send him another message in a week if he doesn't make contact by then. If he did contact me I don't know if I'd be embarrassed or honored or if I'd just want to jump off a cliff. =~=**

 **Well, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! It was a bit longer than the previous few, so at least it has that going for it. It is my goal for there to be another update within a week, but no promises.**

 **C'ya next time! And remember! Reviews=Love, Reality=Illusion, Universe=Hologram, & Buy Butter! XD**


	32. Chapter 31: A Truly Horrible Plan

**Chapter 31: A Truly Horrible Plan**

 _Previously:_

 _Soos frowned. "Can Bill actually_ _ **swim**_ _?"_

Mabel screamed. "MY BABY!" Dipper caught her by the arm and prevented her from springing into the water, restraining himself from mocking her for that statement until after Bill was, well, not _drowning_.

It was Ford that dove off of the safe-haven that was the upturned ship and into the murky water's depths, Wendy right behind him. They could both see unusually well due to the strength of the full moon's light, shining a further than standard distance through the water. Regardless, the closer they swam to the bottom of the lake, the shorter their line of visibility became.

A glimmer of yellow caught Ford's eye below them….

Wendy saw it moments after Ford did and, realizing that Ford would have no problem dragging the small form on his own, she looked around, peering as far as she could through the water, trying to spot the water demon in case it came after them. For added measure, she turned her pockets inside-out as Ford swam past her, up towards the surface, ensuring that as much salt as she had left was being utilized to its fullest potential.

With tears rolling over her cheeks, Mabel released a sigh of relief as three heads broke the surface of the water, two of them sucking in air and one of them positively gasping for breath through shuddering coughs. She reached over the hull and easily pulled the small trembling form against her, hugging him tightly. He struggled against her weakly at first, but then decided that the warmth was well worth the embarrassment.

Bill turned around in Mabel's tight grasp so that she was hugging him from behind. He crossed his arms over his chest for warmth and in defiance. He glared at Ford.

"You were just…. Going to leave me down there…. Weren't you?!" He asked angrily through shivers and subsiding coughs.

Ford rolled his eyes. "Oh relax. You were only under for a minute, you didn't even pass out! You're fine. Besides, we weren't expecting for _you_ of all people to not know how to swim."

"Probably should 'a brought the life vests," Soos added.

Bill glared at Ford. "Why would you think I know how to swim? Just _how_ do you think I'm supposed to have learnt?! Just because I've observed your silly little human children flailing around at swim lessons doesn't mean I know how to do it! And humans naturally have an instinct for swimming; an instinct which I clearly lack." Bill pouted, still shivering from the cold. He, unlike the others, was completely unaccustomed to sensations such as coldness, and was therefore easy to shiver. Wendy and Ford seemed perfectly content standing soaking wet in the night air, but Bill despised it with a passion.

Mabel hugged Bill a little tighter from behind. "You're really mad, aren't you?" She asked. "You must have been scared. I'm sorry I didn't realize you couldn't swim. Don't be mad at Grunkle Ford, I'm the one who should have made sure you were alright." Bill could hear Mabel's quiet sniffling behind him and sighed, standing and beginning to look around the upturned boat, using motion to warm himself.

"It's…. Fine, Shooting Star. You didn't know," he said calmly, trying to look busy by peering out at the water around them, trying to locate the water demon.

Mabel smiled and nodded, also standing from where she had previously been sitting on the drying surface of the boat's belly.

"So what do we do now?" Stan voiced the question. Everyone looked to Bill, as if expecting him to know what to do.

Bill frowned (pouted). "How should I know? I'd say we should head for the cave behind the waterfall, but we've lost our mobility. All I know is that we'd better do something soon. With the boat overturned like this, the demon will have no trouble sliding up over the ship and getting us. As soon as the salinity levels in the water around us go down, we'll be as good as soul-food unless we do _something_."

Ford sighed and rubbed his face. "You honestly don't know what to do?" Bill frowned and averted his eyes, looking down and to the left, pointedly avoiding Ford's stare. "You have an idea," Ford realized, "but you don't like it. What is it?"

Bill met his eyes, this time fear hiding behind his forced natural facial features. "We have very few options. We could all swim for it together, in which case the demon will likely pick several of us off between here and the waterfall. I see a minimum of three deaths if we do that."

"Next option," Mabel said. "Next option!" She didn't even want to _think_ about saying goodbye to three of the people she loved. She'd rather her herself be one of the three than watch the others be lost to her.

Bill lifted his left hand and let his fingers rest against his chin, contemplating. "One of us could swim as far as we can in the opposite direction from the waterfall and draw the demon as far away as possible before the rest of us go for the falls. That'd likely only result in one death…. And the best bait would be Wendy, seeing as she's the best swimmer among us and would be able to draw the demon further away than the rest of us. You've played bait once before, care to do it again?" Wendy glared at him in almost-but-not-quite-mild annoyance. Ford, however, looked rather mistrusting and calculating.

"And why don't we just throw _you_ overboard and run while it's busy with you?" Ford asked.

Bill shrugged. "If you think that'll work, then by all means, do it. What _I_ see happening if you choose that course of action is me being drowned right here next to the boat and the demon being far too close for all of you to get away afterwards. I can't swim a distance to lure it away, after all. Heck, I'm the smallest, it would probably just split in two and manage to attack the rest of you while it finishes me off; I wouldn't be hard to kill. In fact, it drowns its victims, but I'd drown regardless of whether it was present for the event or not. If you really think _I'd_ make the best bait, then sure, use me."

Ford glared at him suspiciously, but he could see the logic in what Bill was saying. How, indeed, could Bill prove to be effective bait if he couldn't even swim? If he was so small and weak in this current body?

"Any ideas that DON'T involve someone dying?" Dipper asked, sounding just slightly horrified.

Bill hummed and appeared to be thinking again, his brow furrowing in concentration. He began to pace, looking around at the people gathered on the flipped ship, observing their surroundings, noting that, based on the position of the moon, it looked to only be about three in the morning…. Bill had only to make sure that no one died within the next four hours, until the sun rose at seven. The salt in the water would dissipate enough for the demon to reach them before thirty minutes was out….

A faint bubbling noise reached Bill's ears and, miraculously enough, caught his attention. At first he was going to shrug it off and ignore the quiet murmur of released air, but the sound rattled a memory and held his curiosity. He peered off to the right, out towards Scuttlebutt Island, which was a good hundred meters away. Wendy, being the strongest swimmer among them, could make it to the island in under two minutes, but even she couldn't reach the island, the closest source of land available, faster than the water demon could catch her. It would reach her not thirty seconds into the swim.

Bill groaned a deep sound of dissatisfaction and face-palmed because, seriously, was _this_ the only option left to them?

"What is it?" Mabel asked hopefully, startled by his sudden displeased expression. "Did you come up with a new plan?"

Bill turned to her and nodded somewhat morosely. "Unfortunately so. It will either save us all, or end with all of us dying. I still say we send Red out as bait." Bill jutted his thumb in Wendy's direction. Upon seeing her glare, he quickly added: "From a logical standpoint."

"Well, we're illogical people, defying the odds! What's your idea?" Stanley asked. Bill signed and pointed towards Scuttlebutt Island.

"You see the island just under a hundred yards off," he stated factually. "Well, look a little to the left between here and there..." He adjusted his arm so that his left index finger was pointing a slight bit leftward. "And you see _that_ , just under a short twenty meters away, or approximately sixty feet from here?"

Ford face-palmed and Dipper and Mabel each paled considerably, but the others still looked confused.

"The small land mass, if you can call it that, just right there?" Bill emphasized by shaking his pointed finger a bit, making them all look at it.

"You've _got_ to be joking!" Dipper argued immediately.

"I estimate that for a radius of about ten feet around the boat the salt levels are still high enough to drive the demon off. That leaves fifty feet of water between here and our target," Bill continued, ignoring Dipper's complaints and the startled and almost horrified expressions on everyone except Soos' and Wendy's faces.

"Fifty feet to our also deadly and terrifying target!" Dipper groaned.

"What, dude, what is it?" Soos asked, looking towards the island where he could faintly see bubbles reaching the surface of the water around it.

"It's the Island Head Beast," Ford said. "And Dipper is right, it's a _terrible_ idea. The Island Head Beast looks like a simple little island when it's submerged, but when it emerges it often attacks nearby boats and tries to eat everything in its path! It'll eat all of us in two bites! I don't know what you're playing at, Cipher, but stop it. This is serious!"

"You think I don't know that?!" Bill yelled angrily, and to everyone's surprise, his eyes sparked red and glowed, contaminating the pure white moonlight around them with a slight scarlet tint. "I DON'T WANT TO DIE EITHER, STANFORD!" Bill's fists clenched tightly at his sides as he faced Ford who, surprisingly, didn't look intimidated, frightened, or angry. Instead he looked contemplative and almost _curious_... Bill wasn't calm enough to wonder what was going through the old man's head.

"Woah, okay! Calm down a little, Bill," Mabel stepped between Bill and her Grunkle Ford before anything bad could happen. Bill sighed and rubbed at his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm... Sorry. Look, I know how important it is for us to make a proper decision quickly. The longer we wait, the harder it will be for _any_ of us to escape in the end. Just, hear me out." Everyone was silent, a soundless confirmation urging him to continue. "I estimate that, based on all of our, or rather _your,_ skills as swimmers, it will take ten seconds to leave the saltier water and be in the demon's reachable area. From there it will likely take another twenty seconds or so to reach the Island Head Beast. While, yes, the Island Head Beast is _dangerous,_ it's mostly due to the fact that it does, indeed, like to eat boats and the like, but it doesn't in particular like to eat humans... Most of the time…. Except for children, it likes those."

"I don't like the sound of that," Wendy chipped in helpfully. (Note the sarcasm.)

"Neither do I, but we're kind of trying to defy the odds here, so we don't have many options," Bill retorted. "The plan is this: We swim for it, as fast as humanly possible, and damn it all if don't wish we weren't limited to simple human capabilities right now!" Ford glared mildly as if to warn him to stay on track. "Ehm, yes, well, I digress. The plan, as I was saying, is to swim for the Island Head Beast. We've been here for several long minutes now and it hasn't come after us, which means it's likely not hungry and, based on the frequency of the bubbles and size of them, I'm going as far as assuming that it's asleep."

"Because you know the number o' bubbles that thing usually breathes out?" Stan asked skeptically.

Bill leveled him with a certain look. "You're choosing now, of all times, to question my knowledge?" Stan remained silent.

"As I was saying," Bill resumed, "I do believe it is sleeping. That means we can get closer to it than one normally would, and since we won't be using a boat we'll be less likely to awaken it before we reach it. Hopefully its slumber is deep. If we can just manage to get on _top_ of it, it won't be able to harm us."

"Like the jellyfish in Finding Nemo!" Mabel quipped.

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Bill leveled.

Mabel giggled. "Yes you do. You're _Bill_. I know you know, like, everything, so you've seen that movie at _some_ point or another!" Bill neither confirmed nor denied this accusation, which was all the confirmation Mabel needed.

"Well, the point is, if we can manage to get atop it and hold on to the trunks of the trees and various shrubbery, we can ride it with relative safety. Don't, however, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, catch onto the roots _underneath_ the beast and if you do, somehow, end up underneath it, make sure you let go and swim for it. If that thing decides to sink back into the water while you're anywhere near the underside of it, you'll get sucked down into the water, possibly tangle up in the roots underneath, and drown. If you don't drown, you'll be crushed as the beast settles against the lake floor."

"Is that how the skeleton that's there ended up like that?" Dipper asked, to which Bill, surprisingly, shook his head in the negative.

"No, that's a result of the 1900's in Gravity Falls. It was one of the unfortunate, but already-dead, bodies that was dumped in the lake. There used to be a mob working through this area, of which I was an honorary member, of course. Good times, those were. Good times..." Bill smiled wistfully.

"Right. So, aim for the island, swim fast, and hold on tight once you get there. Make sure to end up actually on _top_ of the island, and be as quiet as possible while you do it so as not to awaken the beast. Is that it?" Dipper asked.

"No." It was Ford who answered. "There's one other problem, isn't there, Bill?" Bill didn't respond, knowing that Ford would point it out for him. " _You_ can't swim. Hell, even if we took a minute to teach you how to dog-paddle, you still wouldn't be able to make it to the Island Head Beast before the water demon snatched you. So the question remains; who's going to haul you through the water?"

"I figured that beggars can't be choosers. You lot are the ones who have to decide that," Bill said, shrugging lightly and crossing his arms, trying to hide the uncertainty he was feeling. What if they just left him on the boat? It was possible... Likely, even.

"Well, I guess I'll do it," Wendy, surprisingly enough, offered.

"Really? Wow, that's great! Thanks, Wendy!" Mabel cheered, as if it was her duty to thank the red-head for essentially saving Bill's life. Mabel supposed that _someone_ ought to thank her, and it likely wouldn't be Bill.

"Well, I figure that I'm the best swimmer here, so I've got the best chance of being able to keep up with the added weight on me. Besides, I know that if everyone refused to help, you'd probably end up trying to drag him across the lake yourself, wouldn't you Mabel? And that's the _last_ thing we need right now. Either Ford or Stan _could_ do it, but let's face it, they're old."

Stan looked like he was going to object or resent her words, but instead he shrugged. "Alrigh', yeah, tha'z true."

"In that case, we'd better go." Bill walked to the edge of the ship closest to their targeted destination. "Everyone turn your pockets inside-out when you get in the water like Wendy did to try and ward the demon off a bit more effectively," Bill advised, glancing at Wendy's still out-turned pockets. "Hold onto the head until it, ideally, goes over land. As soon as it's not over water anymore, or if it goes very near to the waterfall, let go. If It's near the fall, swim for the cave. If it's over land, meet up immediately. The water demon can still reach us for an unknown distance onto the land. I've never seen it go far, but that's because it's always caught its prey, so..." Everyone looked a bit solemn. "Of course, it's prey on land has only been as many as three people in the past. It's never been in a situation where there was a whole group of people on land near the water," Bill attempted to comfort them. It didn't appear to work very well, but everyone tried to look determined all the same.

Wendy stepped up next to Bill and knelt down so he could climb onto her back and ride piggyback style. "Try not to choke me, alright?" Wendy said, a bit of humor evident in her voice. Bill nodded and wrapped his legs around her waist, his arms crossing over her shoulders and around in front of her neck, allowing for enough space for her to breath easily. He held on tight as, instead of diving in like she might normally have done, Wendy slid sideways into the water. The others followed shortly after, all of them sticking near the capsized boat.

"This is a horrible idea," Ford voiced one last time.

"It's the only one where everyone _might_ get out alive," Bill retorted, staring nervously at the water around them. The demon had been circling around the boat in a five-meter radius for the last several minutes. As its shadowy form passed by in front of them and disappeared around the edge of the boat, Bill figured that it was now or never.

With one last glance at those around him, Bill nodded. "Let's go."

 **A/N: I've said it before and I'll say it again: Everything ends up taking more words to write than I expect. I thought I'd be done with the Friday the Thirteenth Arc in three chapters or less, but here it is, four chapters later, and there's still probably going to be another two chapters before we move on to the next Arc! Haha, oh well. I hope it's worth it and that you're all enjoying it! The next Arc will be major plot development, so look forward to that. Or dread it. Depends on how much you love little Billy. XD**

 **Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, logged-on and guests alike, and to everyone else who is following, favoriting, reading, etc. You guys da best! ^^**


	33. NOT Chapter 32: April Fool's Day 2017

**NOT Chapter 32: April Fool's Day 2017**

 **A/N: VERY IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ!**

 **It is critical for you, the reader, to know that I published this chapter on April Fool's Day. It is NOT A REAL CHAPTER. You can still read it, absolutely. It's kind of fun to read and it's still well enough written, but this chapter has NO EFFECT on the rest of the story! It's interesting, it was really funny when people read it and thought this was seriously how I was ending the story, but this chapter is fake. If you want to continue the story, go on to the next chapter, the REAL Chapter 32, because this isn't it.**

 **If you do decide to read this fake end chapter anyway, well then, enjoy!**

As soon as Bill had given the word, they took off. Wendy pushed off the boat to give herself added speed, as did a few of the others.

Unlike some might believe would happen, the group didn't waste time looking around, trying to spot the demon as they swam. They simply _swam,_ as fast as they could, not looking back or around or stopping. Bill alone was free to peer about the waters around them. With only the moonlight to illuminate the otherwise dark water, Bill couldn't make out the shape of the freshwater demon. Instead he focused on holding on to Wendy tightly, his heart pounding in his ears and the sound of human appendages striking out against the water the only sounds he could hear.

As tends to be the case, Bill's calculations were spot-on. Within ten seconds they were in the demon's reachable waters, and by the time another twenty seconds after that had passed, various members of the group of seven were clambering up onto the Island Head Beast. Dipper and Mabel had reached the beast first and made it on top. Wendy, despite the extra yet somewhat insignificant weight that was Bill Cipher, made it to the island third, Bill instantly jumping off of her and latching onto a nearby bush. Wendy grabbed the tree branch of a nearby pine tree and Dipper and Mabel latched onto the trunk of the same tree.

Everyone looked around frantically to take stock of the situation. Ford and Stan were only a few meters away from the island, no water demon in sight. The island beneath them had felt it when the young humans... and Bill... had clambered onto its head and was now quickly waking up. Soos was...

"Where's Soos?!" Dipper called over the rumbling of the Island Head Beast stirring beneath them. Wendy, Dipper and Mabel looked confused and uncertain, but Bill knew. He knew instantly what had happened.

 _'Of all of us, he_ _ **was**_ _the least likely to make it,'_ Bill thought to himself. He knew already: The demon had gotten Soos. _'If Question Mark isn't dead yet, he will be soon. There's no saving him.'_ Bill didn't voice these thoughts; he knew better than that. If he pointed out the truth of the situation now, then the others would be more distracted and panicky, and that could have disastrous effects...

Ford and Stan made it to the edge of the head, Stan scrambling up onto the beast. Just as Ford was pulling himself onto the island and out of the water, the island _lurched._ The Island Head Beast began to rise into the air, Ford holding on to the roots sticking out at the side of the island. Attempting to help his brother up, Stanley laid down in the dirt and reached over the edge, grabbing onto the back of his twin's collar and trying to pull him up.

It happened so fast. In the blink of an eye. Bill's eyes widened and, still holding onto his bush, his lifeline so precariously near the edge of the beast's head, he leaned over to try and see what exactly was happening.

The Island Head Beast had roared angrily at the creatures crawling over it and had jerked around in mid-air, trying to shake them off. And shake them off it had... Stanley, who hadn't been holding on to anything at the time, had fallen off sideways, just barely managing to latch onto some of the roots that made up what looked like the beast's beard. The only problem was, he was too close to the mouth...

Bill couldn't exactly see it, but he certainly _heard_ it all as it happened. The sound of a tongue lapping at its lips, and the island churned as powerful jaws slammed shut. A piercing scream split the air.

"STANLEY!"

And as much as Bill despised Stanford, he hadn't wanted to see this. Hadn't wanted to be there if ever Ford was forced to watch his twin pass on. Especially not in such a violent manner...

Bill felt that, surely, it must be a dream, as the Island Head Beast suddenly dropped out of the sky, a weightlessness making Bill's stomach flip as the ground beneath them suddenly dropped, and Stanford too, who had fallen a bit lower amongst the roots, who had been somewhat underneath the beast, was lost.

 _'At least,'_ Bill thought to himself through a haze, his mind blank and dazed. _'At least he and his brother weren't apart for long...'_

There was silence as the beast settled back into the lake, and no one atop its head dared to so much as breath. Bill could comprehend it, but could hardly believe it, and he'd seen an _awful lot_ in his long years. The other three couldn't even begin to comprehend what had just happened.

Mabel and Dipper let go of the trunk of the tree, slowly approaching the edge of the small island.

"G-Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked terrifyingly quietly. A little louder she called out: "Grunkle Ford?"

Dipper was staring with wide eyes, but Bill could see that he was finally starting to understand what had just happened. Tears were just barely pooling in his eyes when he turned to look at Bill.

"They aren't dead... Are they?" Dipper asked. Bill stared back, not responding. Mabel sobbed and Dipper shook his head. "No, no, Mabel, it's okay! They aren't dead! Can't be! We're the Pines family! Sure bad things happen sometimes, but nothing _this_ bad!" Dipper hugged his sister a little before turning to Bill. "Tell her Bill! The waterfall spirit! It's here in the lake too, right? So it probably saved them! They're probably all in the cave right now! Grunkle Stan, and Grunkle Ford, and Soos too! Right?" Dipper looked first at Bill, and when Bill didn't respond he looked to Wendy.

Wendy stared back, looking confused and doubtful. She didn't know what to think...

"I... I don't think the waterfall spirit intervened," Bill finally said. "It... I didn't see it moving. And... I'm not sure it has... _had_ the _power_ required to save them..."

Mabel shook her head. "But it's a full moon out! It's got lots of power tonight, doesn't it?" Bill didn't look at all hopeful. Shocked and stunned and scared... but not optimistic.

Mabel looked like she was going to argue with him further, argue until Bill dropped that pessimistic look on his face and was convinced that nobody had died, but she didn't get the chance to. There was a rushing sound, like a sudden wave, and the four still standing atop the Island Head Beast turned to see the water demon, a dark volume of shadowy water, lurking up onto the little island. It looked like water overflowing from a cup and spilling down the side, or a wave as it just barely, gently, rolled over a smooth rock's surface. In a wide and thin layer it crept up onto the land towards them. No one dared to move.

The water approached Dipper and Mabel. Bill didn't dare move from his spot near the bush he'd been clasping onto this whole time, but Wendy did. Wendy finally let go of her tree branch and sprang between the water demon and the younger... The _only_ Pines twins. Like a tidal wave, swift and furious, the water passed over the section of island where Wendy had been standing moments before and was gone. Her moonlit, white-bathed, fiery red hair disappeared almost instantly below the surface of the lake.

"It's not real," Dipper insisted, peering at the water where Wendy had just vanished. "The water demon can play mind games, can't it?" Dipper asked. "It's got to be able to trick the mind!" Dipper rubbed his chin in contemplation. "An illusion of some sort. Water droplets in the atmosphere bending light is what causes rainbows... Maybe the demon can use water to bend light and make it look like certain things are happening that actually aren't!"

Mabel nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. "Yeah, yeah! You _always_ know what's going on Dippy! SO that MUST be it!" She looked hopeful, but behind her eyes Bill could see that she, somewhere deep inside, knew the truth. And so did Dipper...

 _'Humans can be a funny thing,'_ Bill thought. _'They'll ignore what's right in front of them to escape pain. They'll live in denial their whole lives if they have to... And I'll let them. I won't tell them the truth. That would be cruel, even for me. I'll let them live in denial for the rest of their lives... Mostly because I know that won't be long anyway...'_

And Bill was right, of course. They were stuck on the Island Head Beast, nowhere to go and nothing to do. It was less than five minutes later that the water demon returned. It stopped near Bill and Bill stared down at it. Somehow he knew, could _feel,_ that the water demon knew who he was and wouldn't hurt him. Bill didn't say anything, didn't try to stop it as it approached the young Pines twins. They were both screaming at it... Screaming nonsense about how they weren't afraid of it, how they knew what its tricks were... But water muffles sound, and soon the sound died as Bill watched the last reminiscences of a bright pink and steady blue were drowned out by the darkness to be found below the water.

Bill Cipher never liked water... But now he hated it.

 _'Goodbye, Shooting Star. I think... I'll actually miss you.'_ Bill stared down at the water for a long time, with a cold and hard look in his eyes. Finally he sighed and walked over to the water's edge.

The freshwater demon came up to greet him. It understood what he wanted as Bill slid into the water and, yellow hair basked in moonlight, he disappeared under the surface of the lake...

….

Bill Cipher opened his eye to an overly bright cloudscape.

"Why does your place always look like a cotton candy machine threw up all over the place?" Bill asked, his yellow triangular form floating in the pink fluffy near-nothingness. Bill reached out a black and slick little finger and touched a nearby puff of pink, enjoying the fact that it turned to ash and dropped, falling out of the infinite sky forever. "Sweet."

"Don't ruin my clouds, Cipher," The Axolotl complained mildly. "You already decorated your own Nightmare Realm the way you like it, let me have my own."

Bill shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat. By the way, that deal you made with me? Totally sucked. I told you things would end badly. They always do."

"You killed them all," The Axolotl said, sounding rather disappointed. It stuck out a pink tongue and huffed, a small little pink cloud coming out to replace the one Bill had just turned to ashes. Bill's eye narrowed in amusement and he touched another, bigger cloud, the entire thing instantly turning to ash and falling away, far below them, just as the other had. The Axolotl sighed in mild frustration.

"I didn't kill 'em and you know it! It's just the way things go. Stuff dies when I get near it. Life happens, death happens... Besides, they were mortal anyway. Weren't gonna live long no matter what I did."

"If you'd cared about them more they would have lived. Or, more specifically, if you'd cared about yourself less." Bill rolled his eye, but The Axolotl continued as if it hadn't seen. "I can see that you did, in fact, care about the young Mabel Pines. But not nearly as much as you care about yourself... Isn't that so?"

Bill shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Well, I still don't have a body, so... How's about we make another deal? You're a being from the fourth dimension, you can control time, and since Time Baby won't be around for another 999 years, you can just reset the last few days and let the Pines live their lives without me being involved for a second time. I'll help you reset time back a couple of weeks if you give me back my powers and let me go on my merry way."

The Axolotl sighed again, but this time it sounded sad and was full of regret. "You're trying to convince me to bring them back to life," The Axolotl said. "Because you care, even if only a little."

Bill thought of saying _"Guilty as charged,"_ but decided to hold his metaphorical tongue. Hmm... For most people that saying was mostly literal...

"I'll counter your deal with one of my own," The Axolotl said. "You have two options to choose from. Option one is that I set time back by a few hours and you convince them _not_ to go on that little Friday the Thirteenth adventure, and you continue down your Road to Redemption, as I have planned for you."

"And the second option?" Bill asked.

"I give you your powers back now and you return as Gravity Falls currently is, with the Pines dead."

 _'If he is to choose the first option, he will only have to wait a few months before regaining his powers. If he chooses this option, he will have it all. Redemption, a loving family, his powers... Are you truly capable of change, Bill Cipher?'_ The Axolotl wondered. Its eyes sparkled with curiosity and worry.

"Alright, I've made up my mind," Bill said. He extended his hand, engulfed in cold azure flames. The Axolotl lifted its tail and rested the very tip of it against Bill's outstretched palm to seal the deal. "I want to go back now, with my powers intact. I don't need, or even _want,_ those Pines in Gravity Falls."

The Axolotl sighed. "Very well." Bill's blue flames spread and covered both himself and The Axolotl.

"Pleasure doing business with you!" Bill tipped his snazzy little black hat slightly in the façade of a gentlemanly gesture.

Blue flames overtook Bill's vision...

….

When Bill awoke next, he was in the forest, just as he had been a few short weeks ago at the beginning of the summer of 2014. Only this time, he was no human. He had not three, but _four_ points, a bright yellow pyramidal form... He was himself again. Better than himself, he had a physical body there in Third Dimension Gravity Falls! True, the portal was gone, but now that he had his own physical form back and his powers, starting another Weirdmageddon would be a synch! And, to make matters better, there would be no Pines around to foil him!

Bill laughed his high-pitched, maniacal laughter. It resonated through the woods, over the town, and everything within Gravity Falls knew that Bill Cipher was back.

Before doing anything else, Bill stopped by the Mystery Shack.

It was empty. Quiet. It made Bill remember those emotions he'd had when he was in a human form.

He didn't like it.

He burned it to the ground.

Bill Cipher finally won.

 **THE END...**

….

….

 **A/N:** _ **VERY IMPORTANT!**_ **READ THIS NOTE!**

 **Again, to anyone who somehow missed it in the Author's Note at the beginning of this chapter, this was NOT a real chapter and has NO EFFECT on the rest of the story! I published this fake chapter on April Fool's Day 2017. It was funny, I pranked a lot of people pretty hard, so that was fun. But it's not April Fool's Day anymore, so this chapter has no purpose other than your singular enjoyment.**

 **I hope it was still worth the read, despite the fact that it completely doesn't matter for the plot of this story. Other than that this is an alternate end kind of thing, I suppose.**


	34. Chapter 32: The REAL Chapter 32

**Chapter 32: The REAL Chapter 32**

 **A/N:** **Happy birthday (date 04/02/2017) to** _ **The**_ _ **Illuminaughty**_ _ **Pine Tree**_ **!** **In Japanese that's:** **お誕生日おめでとうございます。**

 **Because I speak a little Japanese, in case any of you didn't know that. ^^**

As soon as Bill had given the word, they took off. Wendy pushed off the boat to give herself added speed, as did a few of the others.

One might like to imagine that the group was frantically looking around as they swam, looking out for the demon or dodging when it came closer, but in all actuality they saw nothing but their goal in front of them and water. None of them took the time to look around; such a mistake could prove fatal. They simply swam, with all their speed and might, hearts pounding in their chests. Bill alone had the luxury of being able to look around, he himself not busy swimming, but he opted instead, rather unwillingly, to shut his eyes closed tightly and hold on to Wendy, his sole lifeline in a place where he could do literally nothing to help himself. Internally, he counted the seconds that had gone by. At ten he noted that the salt in the water around them would, likely, at this point be nearly nonexistent as they continued their rush to the Island Head Beast. It wasn't until he'd counted steadily to twenty-five did he dare open his eyes and look up, estimating that they were mere moments from their target.

As usual, Bill's calculations and estimations were spot-on. Nobody looked back as they clamored on to the top of the Island Head Beast. As soon as they were "on land," so to speak, Bill let go of Wendy and dropped onto the "ground," running towards the trees and bushes with the others. He could feel the ground beneath them rumbling from the beast's breaths beneath the surface of the water, making the entire island tremble.

The band of seven reached the pine trees that stood clustered in the center of the beast's head like hair, each of them going to latch on to the trunks. Dipper and Mabel went to the same tree, wrapping their arms around the modestly-sized pine and holding each other's hands, securing them to the island. Stan and Ford each went to different trees, and Soos found a thick bush that he could hold on to instead of one of the evergreens. Bill was going to approach with a similar tactic to Soos' and latch onto a bush, but instead he was surprised when Wendy wrapped one arm around a lower branch of a tree and the other snaked around Bill's waist, holding him firmly against her side. Maybe she thought that Bill, in his practically malnourished state, wouldn't be able to hold on if the Island Head Beast jostled around too much. Or maybe she hadn't thought at all before instinctually ensuring that he'd be relatively safe. No matter the reason, Bill was startled by her protectiveness, involuntarily yelping when she grabbed him and held him firmly in place.

Now that everyone was secured to the shrubbery on the Island Head Beast's head, Bill chanced a glance back at where they'd just exited the water. His eyes widened when he saw the water demon take form, shaping into a long slender serpent's body, translucent and a dark shade of blue glowing and reflecting glimpses of white moonlight that bounced off its glass-like surface.

Dipper let go of Mabel's hand just long enough to snap a picture of the approaching form, the flash of light attracting the demon's attention. Dipper put his camera back in his inner coat pocket immediately and held on to Mabel's hand again, squeezing tightly. The water demon slipped up out of the water and onto the island, coming closer to the group.

"BILL!" Ford suddenly called. Bill snapped his eyes to where the old man was still tightly braced against a tree. The demon was drawing closer to Dipper and Mabel every second. Ford looked desperate. "The beast isn't waking. Do something!" Bill continued to stare at him, wide-eyed and frozen. "PLEASE!"

Seeing the demon approaching his grand niece and nephew, Ford drew out his ray gun and tried to fire it, but due to the fact that technology and water didn't tend to mix well, all the gun did was shoot a few sparks out of the end of it before humming and dying. In a final effort to save their young family members, Ford and Stan both left their trees and dove towards Dipper and Mabel, standing between the younger twins and the water demon. Mabel screamed.

Bill seemed to snap out of his frightened, motionless state. He looked around quickly and, seeing what he needed to do, pushed away from Wendy. She was startled by his sudden effort to get away and let go. Bill dove towards the ground near the water demon. The demon turned its serpent head to look at him as he landed a mere three feet to its right, seemingly as surprised as everyone else that Bill had suddenly sprung to the ground near it. Bill peered up, meeting the "eyes" of the demon, two glossy blue slits in its face that, other than by shape, were indistinguishable from the rest of the water that made up the demon's effective body.

The water demon's startled hesitation was all the time Bill needed as he grasped the sharp and sturdy stick he'd just picked up off the ground in his hands. Kneeling there on the Island Head Beast's head, Bill lifted the sharp stick, pointed-end-down, and drove it with all the might his small body possessed into the ground.

The island instantly shuddered and lurched upwards a foot, as if the beast had been pricked into straightening its non-existent back. Bill immediately let go of the sharp stick that stuck like a splinter in the head of the island beast. The water demon, sensing what was coming next and knowing to some degree the creatures that resided within Lake Gravity Falls, dropped its serpentine form and rolled off the side of the Island Head Beast in the same direction it'd come from.

Bill watched as it went, still fearful, his brain clouded by the fright. He almost screamed when Wendy let go of her tree and grabbed Bill, lifting him off the ground and once again wrapping an arm around him tightly before latching back onto the tree branch as the island lurched upwards into the air, a deep-voiced shriek muffled by water quickly becoming loud and clear as the beast levitated over the lake.

"Well it's awake," Bill said, sounding just a little shell-shocked. "I think it might be angry at me though." No one could ever accuse Bill Cipher of being gutless.

Everyone laughed as, for the first time in a very long and terrifying fifteen minutes, they felt relatively secure. They'd all made it onto the top of the Island Head Beast alive and well, which was something to be grateful for in and of itself.

Wind rushed past the group as the Island Head Beast rather angrily shook itself, trying to dislodge the vermin that it could feel resting upon its head like some kind of horrible island-beast head-lice, before flying off across the lake.

Everyone kept their eyes open and, as soon as the Island Head Beast was passing near enough to Scuttlebutt Island, prepared to jump off. Cautiously, with the wind still whipping through the bushes and trees as the beast beneath them raged words that only Bill could fluently understand, Ford and Stan let go of the tree they had been holding on to, the very same tree that the younger Pines twins held on to for a moment longer before following their Grunkles' examples and cautiously letting go. With a nod to his twin, Ford ran and jumped off the side of the beast, Stan and the Mystery Twins right behind him. They all fell into the water a short twenty feet from Scuttlebutt Island. Soos, where he was laying on the ground holding a bush, opted to simply let go of the bush and _roll_ off of the island sideways, falling into the water with some pain from thirty feet up, but with no lasting effects.

Having no time to go piggyback style, Wendy held Bill's hand tightly and they jumped together, Bill's heart pounding in his chest as he once again was submerged under the water upon impact. The unfortunately now familiar, yet still terrifying, feeling of water closing in over his head greeted him, but unlike the first time, it was short lived. It was barely five seconds later that Wendy had pulled them back up to the surface after their feet-first drop from the top of the Island Head Beast thirty feet in the air. Wendy grabbed Bill from behind and swam the short distance to the island. Once on land, everyone immediately came together, as per the plan Bill had outlined for them before their mad dash to... Well, not exactly _"_ s _afety,"_ but to a less immediate-death sort of situation.

Everyone watched as the Island Head Beast raged a bit, flying over Scuttlebutt Island and knocking over some tall trees along the way, the trees falling to the ground in mighty crashes. Spit was flying out of the gaps in its teeth as it raged about, according to Bill, "annoying humans, bothersome children, and a triangular pain in the ass." When Stanley asked how an Island Head Beast could possibly know what a pain in the ass even felt like, Bill simply shrugged.

Once the Island Head Beast had rampaged for a few more seconds, it went a ways off into the lake and settled back into the water.

"I thought it'd be angry for longer," Dipper commented.

"It doesn't have the energy to levitate for long periods of time," Bill clarified. He looked to the water's edge a few meters from where they all stood. "We should head towards the center of the island, where we'll be safest. If we stay here, the freshwater demon could attack us again. You saw while we were on the beast's head that, indeed, the demon can completely leave the lake for some distance onto the land, so we'd better back away from the shore." The others nodded and followed as Bill began to trek inland, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Now that the adrenalin of the situation was beginning to fade, he was feeling the effects of the cold on his thin form, and hunger was biting at his insides, but he knew that there was nothing readily available to eat at the moment. Hopefully, once they made it to the center of the island, they could at least get a fire started.

Bill was startled when an oversized tan trench coat was suddenly being draped over his shoulders. He jerked away a bit, almost expecting for there to be pain, but instead he was surprised to find that Ford had just taken off his coat and placed it over Bill's shoulders, the coat dragging on the ground as Bill reluctantly pulled it tightly around him and continued to walk inland.

Mabel smiled as she watched, but didn't say anything. She was extremely glad that they'd all come on this adventure, despite the unfortunate turn of events. Mabel had, of course, noticed when Wendy actively tried to help Bill survive their migration from the capsized boat to Scuttlebutt Island, and seeing her Grunkle Ford lend Bill his jacket now was just the icing on the cake. Mabel felt as if everything was finally falling into place; like everyone was finally getting used to Bill. Maybe they even cared about what happened to him, and maybe he even cared about what happened to all of them, too...

If Mabel had known what would happen over the next few days, she would have cried at the misfortune of it all. It was oh-so-easy to break trust in such delicate relationships as ones with Bill Cipher.

For now, Mabel smiled and watched as Bill led them closer to the center of the island, flanked on either side by people who a few days ago might have loved to see him dead, but which now had formed some sort of a rough jagged bond with him through the perils of surviving life-threatening situations together. Ford didn't even seem to mind that, being as short as he was, Bill was dragging the tail end of the trench coat behind him across the island floor.

They walked for a few minutes, but very soon Bill stopped and announced that they had reached the center-most point on the island. Scuttlebutt Island was very large by lake standards, but by any other means of measurement it was a small island; one could easily walk across it in a short ten minutes. It took them no less than three walking at a decently brisk pace to reach the middle.

Once there, nearly everyone sat down near each other between a few trees, Stan and Soos leaning up against one of the freshly fallen tree trunks that had been knocked aside during the Island Head Beast's rampage. Wendy opted for sitting on top of the fallen trunk. Mabel and Dipper plopped right down on their backs amongst the dirt and fallen leaves, too tired to care about the dirt that would later cling to their backs and the leaves that would stick in their hair... Not that they'd normally care anyway. As most children tended to think, rolling down a hill and getting covered head-to-toe in grass stains was "fun" for them, so they didn't mind the dirt one bit.

Ford sat down cross-legged on the ground near his great niece and nephew, his old body sore from the adrenaline rush and exercise, but he only stayed like that for a short time. He stood again when he noticed that Bill hadn't taken a seat: The blond had opted instead for gathering firewood. He wasn't finding much success on his own. The most he could carry were a few measly sticks that he still had trouble holding in his arms, almost tripping several times over Ford's coat, but his teeth were chattering and while the coat provided _some_ warmth, the garment was as soaked as everyone else. Bill wanted to get warm as quickly as possible and to do that, he needed to get dry.

Ford groaned when he saw that Bill was, somewhat unsuccessfully, trying to gather firewood a short ways off. Stanford of course recognized that starting a fire was a good idea, and Bill _could_ get it done on his own, but if Bill was left to do it alone it could easily take him thirty minutes just to gather a decent amount of wood. Ford stood and approached where Bill was currently tripping over the tan overcoat again and dropping little sticks as his body shivered in the cold nights that cling to northern towns like Gravity Falls, persisting even into the summer. Ford supposed that Bill lacking any body fat whatsoever to keep him warm could also be a factor in his lack of resilience to the cold.

Ford easily took the small sticks Bill had gathered under one arm, noting with a slight frown the way that Bill flinched when Ford came up behind him and reached to take the small lumber.

"You're going to poke one of your eyes out if you keep tripping and jostling around with a bunch of sticks in your arms, Cipher," Ford said and, if one was listening closely, they could detect a hint of good humor in his voice. Bill noticed it, but didn't comment or respond. Instead he stood nearby as Ford leant down to pick up more wood, this time bigger fallen branches than Bill would have been able to manage. Bill stayed nearby and watched as Ford gathered wood for a few seconds, crossing his arms and closing the overcoat over his body as tightly as he could. When Ford had gathered enough wood a few moments later, he carried it to the area where everyone else was sitting close at hand. Due to the high levels of condensation that had been in the area when the waterfall spirit cast mist over the lake, the wood and ground were both somewhat damp, but not soaked through-and-through, so Ford was sure they wouldn't have too much of a difficult time getting the fire started and drying themselves and subsequently the surrounding area.

Ford gathered the firewood in the center of a small patch of grass between the trees: Wendy stood and gathered some stones to surround what would effectively become their fire pit. When Ford looked around and started picking up and setting down rocks in attempt to find flint by moonlight, Bill laughed.

"Something funny, Cipher?" Ford asked, pausing in his examination of rocks in the area.

Bill shook his head not in denial, but more as a motion of disbelief. "Your ray gun, Six Fingers. Don't ya think it'd be a heck of a lot easier to start a fire with that?"

"It's nonfunctional. Completely waterlogged," Ford pointed out. Bill rolled his eyes and held out a shaking hand, asking for the device. Ford hesitated before reaching to his hip and pulling out the waterlogged ray gun, setting it in Bill's trembling hand.

"Just because it's waterlogged doesn't mean the plasma's cooled to an in-utilizable level," Bill said, snapping open the panels that acted as covering for the inner mechanism and yanking at a tube. A purple liquid oozed out slowly, looking for all intents and purposes like dark purple and nearly, but not quite, extinguished magma. Bill held it over the firewood and it instantly burnt the wood on contact. Within moments the gathered sticks caught flames. After just a few drops had leaked out, Bill replaced the tube he'd dislodged back into its place.

"Sometimes I forget how knowledgeable you are," Dipper said, sitting up and scooting closer to the fire, his sister right behind him.

"If you think _that's_ knowledge, then watch this." Bill smirked and began to fiddle with the ray gun. He popped open a compartment and, pretending not to notice Ford watching him critically from across the growing fire, Bill picked up a small stick and lit the end of it in the fire. Once it was lit, he cautiously lifted the gun, tryng not to let his yet-to-warm hands shake too much, and stuck the lightly burning end of the thin stick into the compartment he'd just opened. A puff of smoke came out of the end of the gun that Bill waved off with his hand, dropping the still inflamed stick into the fire. He closed the cap of the little compartment and began to fiddle with some other wires and mechanics before snapping the gun's cover panels back into place.

"That should do it," Bill commented before aiming and firing.

Stan, who had been on the verge of falling asleep, started into full awareness at the sound of the ray shooting off, initially a quiet click of the trigger followed by the sparking explosion of the plasma leaving the barrel of the gun and yet another pine tree collapsing onto its side the blink of an eye later. The plasma had instantly burned a large hole through the base of the tree Bill had fired at, the large old pine toppling over.

"GIVE ME THAT!" Ford said and, startled, Bill instantly complied, grabbing the barrel of the gun and handing it over to Ford handle first. Ford snatched it from him and shook his head. "Always the destructive one," Ford mumbled while Stan groaned and complained about the fact that old men needed their "beauty sleep" more than teenage drama-queens.

"I see you increased the blast radius," Ford stated as he examined the modified ray gun.

"It'll be more effective against the water demon that way. Not that it'll really do any good though. Even if you evaporate its water, it'll just force the molecules to condensate and reform within the minute. Still, the gun will be rather effective for the same obvious reasons that I hate the water and cold," Bill shrugged, creeping in as close to the fire as he could without burning himself.

"I thought you hated water because you can't swim," Mabel said.

"And cold because you're super tiny and stuff," Soos added.

Bill cocked his head to the side. "Those are certainly factors, but they aren't the main reasons. I mean that _I_ don't like water or the cold, no matter what form I'm in. My powers include control over fire, not that I ever really try to control it. Start fires? Yeah. Control them? Nope. But as a dream demon of fire, nightmares and destruction, creation elements like water are outside my comfort zone. Even at home, there's hardly any water, and it's always hot as a furnace." Everyone stared at him. Bill looked back uncomfortably.

"What?" He finally asked after several long moments.

"At home?" Mabel finally voiced the question on everyone's mind.

Bill rolled his eyes. "I meant in the Nightmare Realm. What about it?"

"We just... never thought you'd describe it as a home. You're Bill Cipher, we didn't think you'd use words like 'home' or 'family' or anything," Wendy clarified.

"Woah now, I never used the word _family_ , and I'm not planning to! I did introduce my friends during Weirdmageddon though, didn't I?"

"I totes thought they were more like your gang members and you were their gang leader or somethin'," Soos said.

"Well, we are a gang of sorts, but just because they're part of my gang doesn't mean we aren't friends."

"And you're ready to let them go, since Weirdmageddon failed?" Ford asked. Bill looked at him and, for just a second, his eyes turned red.

"You know, Ford," Bill began, trying to school his emotions, "sometimes I actually appreciate the fact that I'm not completely omnipotent. It means I get to decide what I do or don't want to think about. And right now? I _really_ don't want to think about this, so I'm not going to." Everyone easily understood what that really meant: _Shut Up and Drop It._

Everyone, even Ford, could respect Bill's wish to ignore whatever problems he might be having, so they all fell silent and let the topic die, to be picked back up at a later date. Ford stood.

"I'll take first watch in case the demon comes after us. The rest of you should get some sleep, if you can."

Bill nodded. "Good idea. With a full moon out, I wouldn't be surprised if it could reach us all the way here, at the center of the island." Everyone else nodded and got comfortable, reclining in the grass and against the fallen tree. Bill sat near the fire with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms crossed over them, his chin resting against his forearms. He stared into the fire, not even attempting to sleep, and for far from the first time Ford wished he knew what was going on in the demon's head. Knowing that picking Bill Cipher's brain wasn't much of an option right now, Ford pulled out his ray gun and sat on the fallen tree, watching over the group as they quickly descended into unconsciousness.

All except for Bill, who would stare blankly at the fire for the rest of the night if he could...

 **A/N:** **Remember! Ivervdh ziv olev, ivzorgb rh zm roofhrlm, gsv Fmrevihv rh z sloltizn, yfb tlow, YBV!**


	35. Chapter 33: Two Halves

**Chapter 33: Two Halves**

 **A/N: I've really been in the mood to write lately. Good thing for you guys because that means more updates and better chapter quality. At least, I hope you're all still enjoying the chapters. ^^**

 **For those who want the more violent side of this story back, not to worry. There will be more. Later. ;3**

Bill didn't know when it happened, but at some point or another he'd drifted off to sleep. His sleep was empty; as if he were dreaming, but the dream consisted only of an endless ebony darkness. If one dreams only of empty nothingness, are they truly dreaming? Or is their sleep void of all dreams, thoughts, and memory?

Bill Cipher didn't know: He didn't dream. He gave people nightmares and existed in the Mindscape, so he himself hadn't dreamt in what felt like forever... Hadn't dreamt in long enough that whatever he'd last dreamt about was such a distant memory that he could no longer recall it, at least not while in a human body with a brain of limited capacity. If he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a dream, then he might as well say that it'd never, ever happened.

No matter what the case, Bill was aware of arousing from a dark depth when consciousness began to return to him. He cracked his eyes open and all at once the darkness faded to the edges of his vision and he was left with a vision full of soft flames from their campfire.

"You awake too, Bill?" Mabel asked. Bill sat up, having laid on the earth below him in his sleep, and looked to Mabel. He noticed that Dipper, as well, appeared to have just woken up.

"Why are you up, Shooting Star?" Bill questioned quietly so as not to awaken the others. He noted that Ford was eyeing them from his spot still perched on the fallen tree trunk: Bill glanced up at the sky and realized that several hours had already passed and Stanford was still on watch. Bill could only guess that Ford intended to take watch all night: He _was_ accustomed to long nights in the lab, after all. He didn't sleep nearly as much as the others.

"I figure we're up for the same reason you are," Dipper responded and stood up, Mabel following suite. Bill was about to ask what that meant, but paused as understanding crept over him. What had woken him up was a feeling that clenched his stomach and made him nauseous, made the blood pound behind his ears: The very same feeling that he'd had on the Stan O' War II just before the freshwater demon had first appeared, and the very same sensation that most children had whenever the demon approached.

Bill instantly stood as well and looked to Ford. Noting the urgency in Bill's slit pupils and the nervous determination on Dipper's and Mabel's faces, Ford instantly stood, readying his ray gun in his steady grasp.

"Stan, Soos, Wendy, get up!" Ford whispered harshly. Dipper shook Wendy's shoulder and she instantly began to sit up, blinking a bit owlishly as she stood and gave Dipper a thumbs up to indicate that she was, in fact, awake. Mabel jumped on Soos' stomach and Ford gave Stan a light kick in the side.

"C'mon Stanley, beauty rest time is up. We've got company," Ford told his twin, who grumbled and sat up slowly, several stiff joints cracking as he went.

"I'm too old for sleepin' on the ground," Stan complained mildly. Ford smiled and offered his twin a hand in assistance, helping to pull him to his feet.

Bill ignored those around him as they awoke and gathered near the fire: He peered out into the trees around them as far as he could see, sometimes catching glimpses of the glittering lake under the moonlight in the distance. The center of Scuttlebutt Island was the highest land point one could reach without leaving the lake's perimeter, and therefore allowed for a rather large range of eyesight through the gaps between the trees. He couldn't see anything _yet,_ but the demon would probably approach silently and with its entire form sliding flat against the ground, not high and lumbering like it tended to be while in its serpentine form.

Bill looked around once more before turning around and facing the group. They were on the opposite side of the fire from him, all seemingly watching and perhaps waiting for his instructions. Bill was eternally grateful that Mabel had made it clear to everyone before the trip that they should all do exactly as Bill said and not take to any plans of action without consulting him first: As long as they all listened to him, they might make it out without any serious injuries.

"We have the advantage," Bill said, turning away again for a moment and scanning the floor near him. He leant down when he spotted a decently-sized stick and faced the fire again. "We have the numbers, we're quite a distance from the lake, and we have fire." Bill lit the end of the stick. "It won't hold it off for long..." Bill glanced up at the sky. "But it looks like we've only got about thirty minutes left until sunrise. It's waited all this time because it didn't want to be drawn so far onto land: Normally, without a full moon out, I don't think it'd even have the power to come this far." Following Bill's example, the others also chose sticks and made torches out of them. All except for Stanford, who planned to use his ray gun when the demon approached.

Bill stood with his back to the fire and everyone else did the same, standing in a circle around the fire and peering out at the spaces between the trees. This way, the demon wouldn't be able to drop down into the center of the circle behind them because the fire was there, and it wouldn't be able to sneak up on them while they were all facing in different directions, guarding each other's backs.

They waited, and Bill kept glancing at the sky. It had to be about six forty-five by then, and Bill had calculated beforehand that the sun would rise precisely at seven. All they had to do was manage until the sun began to rise, and as soon as the sun peeked over the cliffs the demon would loose power and slink back to the lake. As long as they kept it at bay until then, the demon would return to the lake's depths hungry and with its desires unfulfilled.

There was a rustle in the bushes due west, in the direction Soos was facing. Bill, who was facing east, heard Soos speak up directly behind him.

"Dudes, there it is!" Soos said, and everyone instantly turned in that direction. Sure enough, knowing that it no longer had the element of surprise, the demon had taken its snakelike form, rearing up at four feet tall a few meters ahead of Soos. Wendy to Soos' right and Stan to his left both lifted their torches defensively, Ford stepping up on his twin's left and taking aim at the demon. He fired his ray gun at it and the demon, smooth and swift as a flowing river current, dodged to the side before striking forward with lightning precision at Soos' head, only to rear back a bit as it felt the heat of three torches being shoved in its direction.

 _'When the demon condenses itself into a smaller but more sturdy form,'_ Bill contemplated, _'it gets darker in color. And likewise, when it spreads out, it becomes lighter and appears as clearer water than it did before. Right now it's just a tad shade lighter than it was earlier, and its form only stands at four feet tall. Earlier it was at least six...'_

Bill's eyes widened when he realized that the demon must have split itself up to combat the large group it was attacking. Bill was about to say as much when he suddenly felt his legs being swiped out from under him from behind and he fell to the ground, nearly falling forward into the fire and just barely managing not to fall on his torch. To Bill's right, Mabel as well toppled over, and Dipper on her other side fell backwards.

Bill's eyes widened when, before he could call for the others' attention, the tail of the demon's second snake form wrapped around Mabel's left ankle and pulled.

 _'Very clever,'_ Bill thought, quickly standing and picking up both his torch and Mabel's discarded one. _'It pulled all of ours attention to the west and while all the bigger, stronger people were dealing with its first half, it used its second half to attack the smaller ones: Namely Shooting Star, Pine Tree, and myself.'_ Bill smirked when he saw Dipper stand and attack the snake-like form that was dragging his sister rapidly towards the lake. The demon, even split in two and dragging Mabel across the floor behind it, was faster than Dipper and Dipper couldn't manage to get close enough with his torch to reach it. Mabel's screams had by now attracted the others' attention, but only Ford could afford to look away from the first half.

Just as Ford was raising his ray gun to shoot at the demon, Bill sprang at him and shouldered him, making his shot go wide and hit a tree.

"Cipher! What are you doing?!" Ford demanded.

"You'll barbecue that girl if you shoot so close to her! Focus on the first half, Stanford. I'll get Shooting Star." Realizing that Bill was right, Ford hesitated only a moment before spinning suddenly and shooting at the first half of the demon again, this time catching it off guard and managing to evaporate a third of the serpentine form to their west. That made the demon angry and weaker, but it also didn't stop it and, now in an even smaller form, the first half gained extra speed and mobility, condensing itself into a smaller target.

Trusting Ford, Stan, and the others to handle what was left of the first half, Bill turned and began to run after the second half which was still dragging a kicking and screaming Mabel towards the lake with a furious Dipper right behind it, swinging his torch at it but coming nowhere near close enough to make it drop his twin.

Bill ran after them, but instead of following the same path that the second half and the twins had gone, Bill diverged and ran slightly rightward of the path they'd gone. He ended up on top of a small cliff that jutted out on the east side of Scuttlebutt Island. A distance away, down below him, Bill could see that the demon had almost reached the lake with Mabel still in tow.

Bill smirked again. _'No matter how smart you are,'_ he thought at the demon, and the demon hesitated just briefly in its race towards the water's edge; not nearly long enough for Dipper to catch up. _'No matter how smart you are, you shouldn't pick a fight with Bill Cipher.'_ Bill raised one of the torches in his left hand, felt its weight, drew his arm back and, watching the water demon's second half below him intently, threw.

The torch flew end-over-end for a few moments, slicing through the air in a pinwheel of flames, and hit its mark dead-on, as Bill had been confident it would. The torch sliced burning-end-first through the tail of the water snake, just above where it had been grasping Mabel's ankle. Startled by the fire falling out of the sky and the heat of the flames when they came in contact with it, the water demon's second half jumped back, away from Mabel and the now extinguished torch and Dipper, who had just reached his sister's side. It hadn't even noticed at first that it had been severed from Mabel, now only a small portion of itself clinging to her ankle. Knowing that it couldn't drag her around by such a small mass of water, it withdrew what little hold it had left on her and, fearful of Dipper's torch and aware that Bill was ready to throw his second one, it slunk backwards into the lake.

Mabel sat there on the sandy island's beach for a moment, her brother standing protectively and shell-shocked to her left. Finally she turned her head over her right shoulder and looked up to where Bill was standing several meters above and behind them, still watching the lake from his vantage point on the small cliff in case the demon decided to come back in the few minutes left before sunrise.

"Oh. My. Sprinkles!" Mabel suddenly exclaimed, standing and throwing her arms out wide. "That was AMAZING, Bill!" She said. She went to take a step forward, but stopped abruptly when putting pressure on her left ankle hurt. "Ow, ow, walking, not fun," Mabel suddenly said, to which Dipper responded by moving to her left side and letting her lean on him like a crutch.

"Yeah, well, being dragged across the ground by the ankle is, I'm sure, not entirely good for you," Dipper said lightly teasingly.

Mabel waved him off, but continued to use him as a crutch as they slowly stepped away from the water's edge all the same. "Yeah, whatever. I'm sure it'll be fine in a couple of hours! Or at least it better be; I'm going shopping today and I need both my feet to do it!" Dipper rolled his eyes and helped her sit on a fallen log at the edge of where the sandy beach turned into shrubbery, grass, trees and dirt. Bill scurried down to meet them there.

"Are you alright Shooting Star? Pine Tree?" He asked, still clutching a torch and eyeing the lake.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah, Mabel hurt her ankle though."

"I expected as much. Let me take a look at it." Bill handed his torch to Dipper and bent down to poke lightly at Mabel's slightly-bruised and swollen left ankle. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize sooner what strategy the demon would use," Bill said quietly as he continued to examine her injury. Louder, he said: "It looks mostly alright, and your scrapes and bruises from being dragged should heal up quickly as well. Best you stay off your ankle for the rest of the day though."

"Nooooo, my shopiiiiing," Mabel whined semi-mildly. "But seriously Bill, you don't have to apologize. All things considered, you got us through a toug situation alive. And that thing you did with the torch at the end was totally awesome for someone without superpowers!" Mabel smiled. "Thanks for saving me."

With the sun now peeking over the cliffs behind them, Dipper echoed her approval by dropping the torches, crossing his arms, and nodding. "Yup, yup. Totally awesome."

Bill, in an effort to change the subject, simply said: "If you _really_ need to go shopping today, you can just go on crutches." To which Mabel responded by snapping her fingers, nodding, and saying that that was a "great idea"….

 _ **Let it be said that no trees nor little girls were harmed in the making of this chapter.**_

 _ **Also let it be said that saying something does not automatically make that statement true.**_

 **A/N: Lol. ^^**

 **I must really like the letter 'R'. Road…. Redemption…. Read…. Review…. Review…. Review….**

 **Idk, maybe I just like reviews. XD**


	36. Chapter 34: A Friend So Similar

**Chapter 34: A Friend So Similar**

 **A/N: This is mostly a transition/filler chapter…. But with a surprise guest. ;)**

 **Also, this chapter officially puts this story past 100,000 words. Wow…. It's come a long way in four-to-five months, hasn't it? XD**

Ford, Stan, Soos, and Wendy came sprinting down the side of the island, all huffing from having run so fast. They signed a collective sigh in relief when they saw that both Dipper and Mabel were alive and well, despite the fact that Mabel was just a tad worse for ware.

"Is everyone alright then?" Ford asked, and when everyone nodded he smiled in approval. "Good. I think we can call this adventure an overall success then, don't you Mabel?" When Mabel responded with an overly-cheery thumbs-up, Ford laughed. "Good! Dipper and I have a lot to copy into the Journals now, don't we?" Dipper nodded.

"Ooh! Can I put this one in my Journal?" Dipper asked, to which Ford nodded.

"Of course! I'll go back and fix some of the misinformation I had written in the Second Journal about Friday the Thirteenth here in Gravity Falls, but we'll put the information on the freshwater demon itself in your Journal. Any missing information we can just get from Bill, like the names of the original people who summoned it here and a list of its previous victims." Bill rolled his eyes.

"That's all fine and dandy, but what now? I know you don't like spending money Stanley, but _please_ tell me we can just call for a boat instead of getting wet _yet again_."

Stan, who was in the middle of kissing a five dollar bill when everyone turned around to look at him, quickly shoved the Lincoln back in his shorts' pocket and cleared his throat before laughing. "Uh, sorry Little Dorito, but I don't have a single buck o' cash on me!" Bill's face in response looked so unimpressed that one could easily imagine that he'd been watching paint dry for the last five hours. And not just any paint: Dull, beige paint... Very unimpressive.

Ford laughed. "Swimming won't be necessary," he said. "I called a friend yesterday morning, of course! Number one rule of going on adventures is telling someone where you're going and when they can expect you to be back, in case anything happens. In this case, my friend had already been planning to spend the day on the lake with his son in his new boat. He agreed to come out here as soon as the sun rose to check on us. I'm sure he'll be here any minute and won't mind giving us a ride back to shore."

"A friend of _yours?_ "Stan asked mockingly. "Who is it? A red balloon with a face drawn on it? Your pet rock?" Ford poked Stan hard in the side as retribution, which didn't stop Stan from laughing in the slightest. Ford smiled and didn't seem to mind too much.

"No. You all know the man. Talked to him just a few days ago in fact, didn't you?"

"Oh, him," Bill said, because suddenly he knew exactly who it was.

Right on cue, a luxurious white little yacht pulled around the island and honked its whistle horn at them. All in all, it looked to be much nicer and more expensive than even Gideon Gleeful's boat had been, which surprised Bill just a tad. When had that crazy old coot gotten rich? Bill had noticed he looked _better_ last time he saw him then he had nine months ago, but he hadn't looked like a millionaire either... My, how times could change!

"Howdy there, 'venturures! How wuz your mystery hunt?" Fiddleford McGucket asked, leaning over the edge of the yacht's railing as he pulled it up next to the island. He cut the engine and let it coast until its front starboard side touched the sand and stuck there. He then hopped down off the helm and to the lower deck, and pulled at a rope that dropped down a staircase that rested against the sand. He invited them on with a motion of his still, for some reason, bandaged right hand. "Well 'r y'all gonna just stand there? C'mon aboard! I already noticed yer ship turned over yonder, Stanford. Bet that'll be a pain in the donkey-tail ta get right again."

Mabel laughed, as she tended to do when listening to Fiddleford's speech patterns. "Dipper, help me aboard!" She said, pointing up to the ship. Dipper rolled his eyes and, contemplating for a moment, decided to scoop his sister up in his arms and carry her onboard.

"Geez Mabel, you gotta let off on the sprinkles," he complained. Of course he knew that it would be difficult to carry someone taller than himself before he'd even lifted her, but he was confident he could manage. He proved himself right as he finished carrying her up the stairs and set her down on one of the plush white benches on the deck.

"Captain Dude, this is a totes nice boat you got here! Can I drive it to shore?!" Soos asked excitedly, to which Fiddleford easily responded in the affirmative. Wendy went to a reclining chair and seemingly instantly fell asleep.

Bill came on last in a subconscious effort to hide himself from the still wild-card that was Fiddleford McGucket. Bill was fairly confident that nothing too horrible would happen to him, so long as he didn't provoke the old kook or give him a justified reason for attacking. Last time they'd spoken, McGucket had been reasonable. Wary, certainly, but also reasonable, and Bill could appreciate the fact that, from the very start, Fiddleford had not only recognized that Ford was abusing him, but had also been opposed to it. As far as Bill could tell, he so far had no reason to be particularly afraid of McGucket... Still, it was best to play it safe.

Bill walked over to Mabel, glanced up at the now half-circle that was the sun steadily raising into the sky, and suddenly felt entirely drained, registering the knowledge that he'd successfully completed his task. With a deep-seeded groan he plopped face-down onto the white bench next to Mabel, laying down across it with all the dramatic flare he could muster. Mabel laughed.

"You alright there Bill?" Mabel asked, sounding just a tad worried.

Bill tilted his head sideways just enough to be able to speak. "It's finally _over._ You're all alive, I'm alive, and now I feel quite like eating an entire cake and sleeping it off for a week."

Mabel grimaced and her eyes widened. "Oh jeez Bill, I'm so sorry! I totally forgot that, since all our snacks were on the boat, you haven't eaten in a while! And you've been using your powers, too! You must be _starving!_ "

Fiddleford glanced over at the mention of Bill "using his powers," but Ford quickly waved off his concern and explained how limited those powers seemed to be.

Bill frowned at Mabel's choice of words. "Starving..." He echoed quietly which, despite the low volume of his voice, caught the attention of several people. He lifted his hand so that he could look at it and noticed that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop it from shaking. He wasn't terribly cold anymore...

"Perhaps not starving, Shooting Star," Bill said. "Malnourished though. That's about half way to starving, isn't it?"

Mabel chuckled nervously, but when Bill let his right hand drop again, allowing it to hang limply over the side of the bench, his hand still trembling a few inches off the surface of the deck, her laughter immediately ceased. "Oh wow, you're serious aren't you?"

"It's alright. I think I'm just going to pass out. Might have to carry me to the car. At least I won't be conscious on the car ride back."

"No need for dramatics, Cipher," Fiddleford said, startling everyone when his speech lacked the usual hillbilly taint. The accent was still there, yes, but it was distant as an afterthought, not prominent like previously. McGucket went and sat down near Bill's head, startling Bill so badly that he jerked away violently enough to fall off the side of the bench and land on his back, laying on the deck.

Fiddleford chuckled humorlessly; knowing the reason why Bill had reacted so strongly took the joy out of it. He reached down and when Bill flinched again he pretended not to notice. Instead he set two protein bars in Bill's right hand before settling back onto the bench. "Unless you in particular _want_ to be passed out due to malnutrition on the car ride, why don't you eat those?" Bill grumbled under his breath, something that just barely sounded like a "thank you," and opened one of the bars. "Why are you so afraid of cars anyway, Cipher? If ya don't mind me askin'."

"Why _aren't_ youterrified of them? You humans are scared of spiders and snakes and dream demons, but the number one cause of young-adult deaths in America is car crashes. Maybe if we suddenly moved to _Africa_ I'd be more terrified of people with guns and dirty water and diseases, but here in Oregon? Car crashes, definitely. Why aren't Pine Tree, Shooting Star, and the Ice Queen more terrified of cars? If they die before the age of thirty, it's almost guaranteed it'll be because of a car-related accident!"

"That'z quite a logical approach ta fear: I should've expected s'much from you," Fiddleford laughed. "But these kids: They've fought a demon. Two of 'em now, in fact. They ain't normal kids: The same death-rate statistics don't apply to 'em," Fiddleford pointed out. The implication was perfectly clear: _'You're more likely to kill them than anything else, wouldn't ya say?'_

Bill shook his head in response. "Nope, wrong. I might actually resent that a little." Fiddleford waited for Bill to finish taking his final bite of the first protein bar. As Bill was opening his second he continued to explain. "I've already told the others this: I don't really fancy _killing people_ too much. Maybe just because I know they might be useful later, I'm not sure, but either way I don't actually kill too often. And if I WAS going to kill, I think I'd use a car. How's that?" Bill looked up at Fiddleford and took a bite out of the second protein bar. "It'd be harder to prove I killed someone if they died in a car crash. Statistically speaking."

Fiddleford laughed and shook his head. "Touché."

"Toy sword."

Again, Fiddleford laughed. "I know what touché means."

"What's it mean?" Mabel asked.

"It literally translates to 'you stabbed me with your toy sword,'" Ford clarified for her, to which Mabel giggled in response.

Ford and Fiddleford talked idly as Bill finished his second protein bar. "Feeling better?" McGucket asked him.

"Much," Bill responded. "By the way: The yacht. What's with that? Looks expensive, and I'm betting you didn't build it. If you'd built it I have a feeling there'd be more lasers and scrap metal, less luxury benches and beer coolers."

"Oh, you don' know, do ya?" Fiddleford asked.

"If it happened any time in the last nine months, then no."

"Fiddleford sold a lot of his inventions after Weirdmageddon," Ford supplied. "They were worth a pretty penny or two."

"I'm sure," Bill agreed.

"Hey Ford! Why don't ya sell some of your inventions? We'd be loaded then!" Stan said, rubbing his hands together, picturing himself swimming in an ocean of cash.

"I only sell a few inventions here and there, whenever I need extra money. I don't particularly want loads of extra cash," Ford responded, waving his twin brother's dejected look off.

"You just don't want people to have the same cool toys you do, Fordsie," Bill argued, standing up and sitting correctly this time on the bench next to Mabel, Fiddleford still sitting a few short feet to his left.

Ford laughed. "That too."

"I'm glad to see that the two of you are... Less tense," McGucket said, glancing between Ford and Bill.

"Yes, well, Mabel didn't leave much of a choice in that," Ford said, crossing his arms and forcing his smile off of his face.

"Life's just easier when you two get along!" Mabel said enthusiastically.

"And we decided that if things kept going the way they were, Bill wouldn't live very long, so... We kind of had to do something," Dipper said. "Ford and Bill are actually working together in the lab now. You should stop by sometime," Dipper offered.

"Are they now?" Fiddleford asked, looking surprised. Dipper nodded and was about to start discussing what they worked on down in the lab, but he stopped when he noticed that Soos was pulling the boat up to the lake pier for docking.

"I'm afraid our conversation has to end here," Fiddleford said. "I've got breakfast plans with me son, but I'd be happy ta take ye up on tha' offer real soon." Everyone noticed instantly the sudden change in his accent.

 _'Funny man, that guy,'_ Bill thought. Stan poked Wendy and she groaned, pulling her hat down over her eyes at first before finally getting up. Ford picked up Mabel to carry her to the car, of which Dipper was thankful for.

As they were all stepping off the yacht and onto the wooden pier, Bill hesitated. "I have a question for you," Bill said, and Fiddleford could tell by the sound of his voice that he was serious.

"What is it?"

Bill eyed him cautiously through his strands of hair, shining silk under the dawn's gold light. "You've been fairly nice to me so far. Why? I know it's better not to ask sometimes, of course, but I like to know straightforward what people think of me and why they treat me the way they do."

Fiddleford frowned and appeared to contemplate the question. "Alright, I'll humor you, Cipher," he said, all traces of an accent gone this time. "I think you're dangerous, destructive, intelligent…. Quite a force to be reckoned with. And I know that your intelligence, if anything, can fuel that destructive nature of yours. Your past is a mystery, and I'm guessing it's anything but simple and pleasant. So, the reason why I don't treat you so bad? I guess it's because you're kind of exactly like me."

Bill hadn't been expecting that, and it showed in his eyes. He was intrigued, Fiddleford could tell, so he decided to clarify a bit.

"When a coworker didn't come to my retirement party, I built a giant robot and sent it on a rampage. I sent a massive electronic pterodactyl after my ex-wife. I built Gideon Gleeful's stupid robot version of himself just last year and a fake lake monster not long before that. I'm smart, and quite destructive, and I've always been a bit crazy. And yet, just getting a _glimpse_ at the world you came from sent me further over the edge then I knew how to come back from: I ended up erasing my memories because of it. Life's complicated, our memories define us, we're both intellectual and destructive... So until I know more about your past, I won't... I _can't_ judge you."

Bill stared at him for a moment longer before nodding, seemingly accepting what he'd said. With another quiet thanks to Fiddleford for picking them up from the island, Bill stepped down to the pier with the others and they began their short trek to the cars.

 **A/N: I love Fiddleford. Such an interesting character, he is. Don't you agree? ^^**

 **Reviews=Love. Reality=Illusion. Universe=Hologram. Buy Gold=Bye.**

 **Wait…. I'm not so sure 'bout that last one. XD**


	37. Chapter 35: Yawn

**Chapter 35: Yawn**

When they got to the cars Bill hardly had enough energy to throw a bit of a fit over the ride to come: The key word there being _hardly_. He still managed to look well and thoroughly displeased and after a long night of constantly being high-strung over their precarious situation, his nerves were shocked all to hell.

"I'm almost tempted to _walk_."

"You'd pass out on the road from exhaustion and malnourishment," Ford pointed out.

"Then carry me." Ford laughed precisely because Bill didn't at all sound like he was kidding.

Mabel, instead of standing around waiting for Bill to get in, was placed in the back of Stan's car.

"Why don't Soos and Bill go in the truck and the rest of us go with Stan?" Dipper suggested.

"I've got to stay here at the lake and get our boat flipped back over; probably have to collect some things from the bottom of the lake, too. You guys go on ahead," Ford supplied as he headed off towards Tate McGucket's office to rent out another boat.

For those not versed in the science of righting capsized vessels, this is neither the time nor place to discuss the details of doing so, or the numerous available methods. However, one should know that, in order to right his ship, Ford needed only another boat of decent power, two ropes of durable strength, and a sturdy tree near the edge of the lake. Stan would be back at the lake to help his brother and drive him home after he dropped the kids off at the Mystery Shack.

Wendy shrugged and sat in the front passenger seat of the "Stanmobile," as the license plate dubbed it. Dipper hesitated to leave, glancing back at Bill before getting into his own seat, hoping that Soos wouldn't have too much trouble with the amaxophobic Cipher.

Once the others had driven off, Bill turned to the old beat up truck. Surprisingly, the prospect of getting into it wasn't so bad….

Soos opened the passenger door. "Take s'long as you need bro! I've got the time." Soos smiled at him and left the door open, walking around the truck and getting into the driver's seat.

' _Soos has good manners,'_ Bill realized suddenly. Before he knew it, he was climbing into the passenger's seat of Soos' brown little Toyota ***** and closing the door behind him. Soos looked mildly impressed.

"Woah, cool! Not too scary, is it?" Bill was again surprised to hear Soos asking him not to mock or tease him, but to genuinely question whether or not Bill was doing alright.

Bill buckled himself in as Soos cranked the engine to life. Bill rolled down his window and Soos, noticing, rolled down his as well.

' _Curious...'_ Bill thought, intrigued. He'd always known that Soos wasn't as dumb as he looked: The first time he met the man Bill had complimented his intelligence mostly to annoy Dipper, who had not only been the clearly smartest one in their group of three, but who had also wanted everyone to recognize as much. Still, Bill had meant it when he said that Soos wasn't as dumb as he often appeared to be. In retrospect, Bill shouldn't have been so surprised by Soos' kindness and common courtesy. He'd always been a generally good fellow.

"How you doin' bro?" Soos inquired, which drew Bill away from his train of thought. He hadn't even noticed when Soos pulled away from the lake and began the drive back to the Mystery Shack. Soos was going a decent forty miles an hour down the road already and Bill, all the way up to this point, had simply been staring in Soos' direction and blanking out, lost in thought.

"This isn't nearly so bad," Bill said, looking around. With the wide window behind him, windshield directly ahead, and open windows to the left and right, Bill could see out in every direction. "Stan's car felt like a metal death trap you can't see out of, so that you never know what's coming. The golf cart was a flimsy thing, and I could easily imagine it being flattened by any car. But this…. It feels safer."

Soos smiled broadly, keeping his eyes on the road. "Rad! I'm totes glad, little dude!"

Bill nodded. "I suppose that, statistically speaking, car crashes involving trucks are more often fatal, but almost never for the person _in the truck._ Of any vehicle, a truck is probably the safest." Stopping to contemplate, Bill added: "I guess I hadn't even thought about it, but that time we went to see the source of the falls, you drove us in your truck and I didn't have any problems with it."

"Oh man, that's right! Totally forgot about that!" Soos said. "Wish we'd figured it out sooner; could'a saved you from bein' so freaked out. Sorry dude."

This time, Bill actually laughed a little: A slightly bitter chuckle. "If Stanley was here he'd probably smack me on the head and complain about me not having figured it out sooner. He'd probably be mad about the time wasted yesterday morning trying to get me in the car, too."

"Nah, Stan's tight. He wouldn't slam you like that. Or at least, if he does, he'll be doing it to hide the fact that he's stoked you won't be scared anymore!" Soos said cheerily.

A bit more quietly Soos added: "And, under the circumstances, he wouldn't hit you. Not even lightly."

Bill eyed Soos. "You know about all that?"

Soos shook his head. "Nah, not all of it. Just an ounce. But I've known Mr. Pines almost my whole life dude, so I can see and understand how he treats you."

"How exactly is that?" Bill asked, confused. "Like he's scared of me?" Bill couldn't imagine any other explanation. Stanley surely didn't care about him _that_ much, not enough to avoid any and all forms of roughhousing. Was Stan scared to touch him then? Scared that Bill would infect him with his evil or something equally as ridiculous?

"Nah, it's not like that," Soos refuted. "He treats you like you're fragile." That surprised Bill more than anything, more than finding out that trucks didn't make him freak out and that Soos was even smarter than Bill had thought. Bill's golden eyes were wide as saucers when he looked at Soos now, and Soos couldn't help but look away from the road for a moment to see the wide irises that shone so brightly that the inside of the truck cabin had a golden tint of light over it.

"Fragile?" Bill repeated. He'd _never_ been called that: At least not for longer than he cared to remember back to. As far as he was concerned, he'd _never_ been called that. No one had _ever_ thought him weak. Had _ever_ treated him as if he was _fragile_.

But he'd also never been so human. Of that he was certain beyond the need for memory.

Soos nodded. "Eh, I know, it's strange for sure. But isn't everything in this town? That's why it's so off the chain living here!" Soos laughed shortly. "Point is, even if you weren't fragile before, you probably are now. And I think maybe you haven't always been mentally strong either. Being insane is like mentally breaking, right? And you were really insane last year. Either way, Mr. Pines doesn't know what to do with fragile things, so he's bein' extra careful with you. He's not sure exactly how fragile you are or aren't. None of them are. They all kind of tread lightly around you, not just from fear. 'Cuz they don't want to hurt you anymore."

Bill shook his head to clear it of the numerous thoughts plaguing him. He smiled and laughed lightly, looking back out the window. "I was right, all that time ago. When I said you were the smart one. Quite the imagination, too." Soos only smiled, and they drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, Bill falling asleep in the passenger's seat.

… **.**

Dipper and Mabel sat waiting on the front porch. When Soos' truck pulled into the Mystery Shack's parking lot only a few minutes behind their arrival, they were pleasantly surprised and greatly relieved. Dipper got up and approached the truck as Soos put it in park, Mabel hobbling behind after him on wooden crutches.

The crutches had been Stan's, but rather than buying Mabel new ones, the old cheapskate simply sawed off the bottoms of the old ones to make them short enough for her ******. Mabel didn't seem to mind one bit, even though the handles were a tad too far from the top for her to reach them comfortably.

Soos got out of the truck and walked over to the passenger's side, opening the door carefully and quietly. Dipper and Mabel were completely stunned when they saw Bill laying down on the truck's bench seat, curled up on his side with his knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting in the center of the bench.

"He _fell asleep?!_ " Mabel whispered, startled by the sight before her. "Was he really that tired after last night? Or did he pass out from malnourishment?!" She sounded clearly alarmed, her voice rising in volume slightly.

"No, but I could still certainly go for a proper meal," came Bill's voice from within the cab of the truck as he was awoken by Mabel's panic, stretching and yawning as he sat up. At Mabel's confused look he added: "Soos' truck really isn't so bad."

The quartet began their walk to the Mystery Shack, going slower for Mabel, who was still getting used to crutches, Soos explaining why Bill wasn't terrified in trucks along the way.

Once inside Bill headed immediately for the kitchen and, not wanting Mabel to try and hassle with the refrigerator door, pulled out the fourth of a cake that was left from a couple of nights prior.

He sat down at the kitchen table, eyes drooping, the only thing keeping him awake being the biting hunger. No one spoke as Bill ate, Dipper also grabbing a bowl of cereal for each himself, Soos, and Mabel. Bill was the one most effected by the skipping of meals, but it went without saying that the others were hungry as well.

When Bill had finished half of the quarter cake he finally slowed down enough to talk. He hadn't been exactly stuffing his face because, even starving, Bill Cipher kept his manners.

"So shopping," Bill began, looking at Mabel even as he took another bite of cake. "I assume that's for the cake and ice cream and maybe the decorations too. Probably not to buy a gift: Knowing you they were both hand made."

Mabel nodded enthusiastically. "Are…. Are you getting anything?" She wondered, somewhat doubting it.

Bill seemed to contemplate this. "I…. Really don't know. I guess I _could_. It wouldn't _kill_ me I suppose, and I do sort of owe them…. Or at least I can get something for Stanley. I'm not so sure 'bout Ol' Sixer though."

Because anyone who truly knows Gravity Falls knows that, it then having been the fourteenth of June, tomorrow was Stanley and Stanford's shared birthday. On June 15th, 2014, they were turning sixty-four.

"You should definitely get something for both of them!" Mabel said enthusiastically.

Dipper shrugged. "I don't know Mabel. If I was Bill, I don't think I'd want to get Ford a birthday present either. Ford might not even _like it_ if Bill got him a present."

Mabel looked down at her bowl of cereal sadly. "Yeah, I guess you're right Dippy. Sorry I asked Bill." Mabel began to poke at her cereal absentmindedly.

Bill nearly groaned. He knew that keeping Mabel as pleased with him as possible was imperative to living through this whole ordeal. A happy Mabel meant a protective one, too. And so, it was for self preservation alone and totally _not_ because he cared about Mabel's feelings that Bill consented.

"Fine, I'll get them both presents. And I'll make sure Ford's is good enough that he can't possibly complain. What it is I'm going to get him, I have no idea. But I'm sure I'll think of something."

Mabel cheered up immediately, literally cheering before scarfing her cereal down and tossing her bowl into the sink with a clatter. "Soos is taking me into town, so Dipper and Wendy can watch you and help you with your presents!"

Bill nodded and forced himself to finish off the cake, now feeling reasonably stuffed. "I guess a nap can wait until later. I don't know how you maintain such high energy levels, Shooting Star."

"Lots of sugar!" Mabel responded easily, grabbing Soos by his left arm and dragging him out of the Shack, bowl of Lucky Charms still in his right hand as Mabel hobbled on her crutches with him in tow.

 ***Fun fact! I** _ **have**_ **a truck almost** _ **exactly**_ **like Soos'! It's a brown old Toyota pickup truck, one of the best and most reliable trucks you can get. Technically it belongs to a, we'll say friend of mine, but still, it's in my driveway! Well, I say "my" driveway…. But anyway, I'll put a picture up on DeviantArt for anyone who thinks I'm lying. XD**

 **Also, I come from a family of mechanics. In case anyone was wondering. ^^**

 ****My dad did this for me once: Cut the bottom off a pair of metal crutches. Looked like I was hopping around on elongated 'V's instead of the usual 'Y's. Lol.**


	38. Chapter 36: The Old Pine

**Chapter 36: The Old Pine**

Bill looked at Dipper, who had himself just finished his breakfast. "Well, any ideas on what you're going to give them?" Dipper asked.

Bill nodded and followed Dipper into the living room where Wendy was watching TV. "Yes, I at least know what to get Fez. I only need a pen and paper for that."

"Talkin' about birthday presents?" Wendy asked. "I'm almost surprised you're getting them anything." Wendy looked up from the TV. "But then again, you wouldn't miss out on this chance to mess with them, would you?"

Bill looked surprised for a moment before grinning one of those mischievous smirks that Dipper hadn't seen on him in a long, long time. "You know me so well, Red. I'm impressed."

Wendy shrugged and looked back at the TV. "Just don't kill anyone."

"No promises. I can't prevent pure stupidity." Translation: _'Only if you're all dumber than I thought.'_

Dipper handed Bill a pen and paper, Bill sitting on the floor and pulling a book from the small library kept there in the living room. Using the book as a flat surface to write on, Bill began at first to sketch, and then to draw. Lines for roads, depictions of trees and various landmarks…. It wasn't fifteen minutes later that he was putting on the finishing touches. Dipper looked over in concern when he heard Bill hiss a little. He'd poked himself hard enough with the pen to draw blood. Smearing his blood over the top left corner of the page, Bill rolled up the paper and placed the pen in his back pocket.

"What is it?" Dipper asked curiously. "Why the blood?"

"The blood was needed to activate the ancient runes," Bill clarified, "and, as for what it is, you'll hear an explanation when I give Stanley his gift. In the mean time, if you want to know what I'm getting Stanford, you can help me prepare it. I could use the assistance."

"So you've thought of something?" Dipper asked.

Bill nodded. "Certainly, but in order to make it I need to go into the forest. There's an ancient pine in the center of the forest. That's where I have to go."

"Why?" Dipper asked.

"I'll explain on the way."

Dipper looked over to Wendy, who was still reclined sideways on the couch. "You coming?"

Wendy turned off the TV and jumped up. "Sure, nothing good on anyway. And like Bill said, you could use the help."

"Good. I was hoping you would come," Bill said as they exited the Shack and headed off into the forest. "I'm not sure Pine Tree can get what I actually need. You though? I think you can manage it."

"And of course _you_ couldn't do it," Wendy taunted lightly, ruffling his hair. Bill immediately began to pat it down again, as if it would help. He was mildly surprised that Wendy was acting so casually around him, but then again, surviving a water demon attack together had probably strengthened their previously nonexistent bond.

"What exactly has to be done?" Dipper asked, looking about at the shadowed forest surrounding them. It was a bright and sunny day, but under the cover of the thick pine tree branches it was shaded and cool.

"The ancient pine tree, the largest tree in Gravity Falls' forest, has magical properties. It's sort-of a crime to mess with it, every creature in the forest knows to respect it, but I don't have to follow such rules. They respect it because it's old and powerful. I'm older."

"But not more powerful," Wendy teased.

"Well not _right now_ ," Bill pouted. "But that's the only reason I'm using it. At the very top of the tree its needles grow thick and young, bristling with magic. If one uses them to write, they can give power to written spells that when written with a normal pen are absolutely useless."

"So someone has to climb to the top and grab a pine needle?" Dipper asked.

"I'm assuming that _I'm_ the one who's got to go get it," Wendy started, not sounding annoyed, but casual about it. "So are you going to give this needle to Ford?"

Bill shook his head. "Not at all. _**I'm**_ going to use it. I couldn't very well write my runes with Dipper's silly little ink pen."

"It worked fine for the runes you were writing earlier," Dipper pointed out.

"Those weren't _my_ runes, Pine Tree. Those were just regular old little characters. Mine are…. Special."

"And how do we know you won't just use this pine needle to write a spell that gives you back your powers or hypnotizes us or something?" Wendy asked suspiciously, studying him carefully, trying to detect any deceit in his reply.

"Even the Old Pine isn't powerful enough to get me my powers back. As for hypnotizing; it wouldn't work on Stanford. He's encoded his mind and placed a metal plate in his head to avoid such occurrences. He'd stop me, and the results of an attempt to hypnotize the rest of you could be disastrous and rather painful for me. I don't fancy getting punished by six-fingered hands, you know. I won't try anything."

Wendy seemed to take his words at face value and didn't protest any further. She'd still watch him carefully though, of course.

Bill stopped abruptly and looked up. "Here we are," he announced. Wendy and Dipper looked up too. In front of them was a pine tree with a trunk as thick as an elevator shaft. Dipper took a few steps back to try and see the top of the tree, but no matter what angle he looked from he could only see branches and never the towering peak of the Old Pine.

"I didn't know pines could grow this big." Wendy sounded mildly impressed. "My dad told me there was a huge tree in the forest he could never find; he's wanted to chop this tree for years. I always assumed he was lying, or over-exaggerating."

"Like the source of the falls, only magical creatures can find their way here. You're no exception; you're only here because I know how to get past the barriers."

"And you need me to climb this thing," Wendy corrected.

"That too. Your father's probably seen this tree by climbing to the top of other tall trees. Above the tree line it's visible for miles around." Bill looked over at Dipper, who was currently pacing around the tree, trying to see up to the top still. Louder, Bill said: "But from down here it's impossible to see most of it."

Dipper groaned and came over, mumbling under his breath as he pulled out his Journal and began to write.

"So how do I get up?" Wendy asked. "My belt won't exactly fit around this thing, I doubt the tree would like me sticking it with my axe, and the lowest branches are pretty high up there."

Bill shrugged. "How should I know? It's not like Fordsie's second lab: There's no staircase. I brought you along because I thought you could figure it out. Maybe I overestimated your capabilities."

Wendy rolled her eyes. She walked over to a nearby, moderately sized pine and looped her belt around it. She pointed at Bill. "Don't try anything while I'm gone. I'll be back in ten."

"Better make it thirty." Bill smirked. "And remember, I need one from the very top!" Wendy couldn't resist another eye roll as she climbed the tree before her. More than half way up its length she stepped out onto a branch and jumped to one of the lowest hanging branches on the Old Pine. "Thank you!" Bill called up to her as an afterthought while she began scaling upward over thirty feet above them.

"So how _does_ a pine tree get to be this big?" Dipper asked, preparing to write more in his Journal.

"Of course normal trees can't grow this tall. Only here in Gravity Falls does something like this work." Bill turned around and sat down with his back pressed against the Old Pine's trunk, scanning the area around them. Dipper sat down next to him and wrote in the Journal.

"What makes this tree different? How did the magic choose _it_? Why not the tree next to it?" Dipper asked, looking up at the dim light that barely broke through the trees in the golden noon light.

"You're asking how magic chooses a host?" Bill laughed mirthlessly. "I've been wondering the same thing for trillions of years, kid." Dipper looked at him, confused.

"You _don't_ know how this tree got its magic?"

Bill frowned. "Well, truth be told, I _do_ , in fact, know how this very tree was made possible. I did that, of course. Planted the pine cone that became this tree hundreds of years ago. The point is, even though I know how this specific tree got its power, doesn't mean I know how everything ended up the way it did. How did the Universe choose _you_ or _Stanford_ to defeat me? How did the Axolotl end up the being of creation? How did _**I**_ get _**my**_ powers? I really couldn't say."

Dipper looked up again at the tree they were leaning against. "Well," Dipper thought, "if you, a higher power, made this tree into what it is today, then shouldn't there be a higher power choosing things like who gets what powers, too?"

Bill groaned and rolled his eyes. "Don't go religious on me kid. I won't claim that God doesn't exist, but I also don't claim he does. I really don't know. If he _does_ exist though, I'd like to give him a hearty punch to the gut. I think I'd hate him."

Dipper scoffed. "But you're the bad guy. You're _supposed_ to hate a theoretical God."

"Yeah? And who _made_ me the bad guy by giving me these powers?!" Bill yelled, his eyes flashing red.

Dipper lifted his hands in a calming gesture. "Alright, aright, calm down. You think life sucks, I think things have turned out pretty well so far, neither of us is sure what exactly we believe in, so why don't we just agree to disagree?"

"I thought you were Jewish, _Mason Pines,_ " Bill glared mildly at him, his eyes bleeding back to their original golden glow.

Dipper shrugged. "Just because I believe in God, doesn't mean I claim to know everything, or that I can't be scientific and logical. Besides, I'm not even going to _think_ of trying to convince you to be religious."

Bill stopped staring at Dipper, instead looking back out at the forest ahead of them. "Well…. good. It'd be a waste of your time. "

"I figured. You only believe what you want to believe."

Bill didn't respond to that.

Dipper held out his Journal to Bill. "Would you mind writing down how we got here?" Dipper asked, holding his pen out to him too. "It's something good to know, in case we ever need to get back here and you aren't around."

Bill smirked and began writing, handing it back a few moments later.

"Aw, c'mon, really?!" Dipper asked, mildly annoyed. On the page was very neatly drawn, perfect little symbols. "Did you _have_ to do it in code?!"

Bill laughed. "Name's _Cipher_. What'd you expect, Pine Tree?"

"At least the symbols are familiar. Ford uses most of these occasionally. I already cracked the code for them when I had Journal Three."

Bill scoffed. "Yeah, right! The thing about that is, Ford got some glimpses of my symbols and decided he'd assign them randomly to letters and use them as his own. In reality, he's got them all mixed up. For example, he took my symbol for 'I' and marked it as his 'L' and what's supposed to be a 'J' he has written down as 'B'. Some of the characters he even drew sideways and up-side-down and misrepresents them! It's ridiculous."

"Well, I already know what your 'J' and 'I' are now, so that narrows down the possibilities. Want to give me any more hints?" Dipper asked, smirking at Bill.

Bill face-palmed lightly. "You're a dweeb, Pine Tree. I should have written it in another language instead of just in code."

"Why?" Dipper asked. "Scared I'll figure it out?" Dipper had already translated the 'I's and 'J's and was well under way, having used mainly the 'I's to figure out a few other letter symbols.

"You're not going to like it." Despite the warning tone in his voice, Bill couldn't prevent a smirk from creeping onto his face.

Dipper finished decoding the small passage easily. Aloud he read: " _'There are just three steps involved. Step one is to know that the Old Pine stands thirty-five degrees North-East of the Shack. Step two is not allowing yourself to get turned about on the way there, as the magic tends to interfere with one's sense of direction and location devices.'_ So far so good," Dipper commented. " _'Step three: Don't be a pathetic juvenile named Dipper. Or a human, for that matter.'_ Really, Bill? Really?" Dipper looked up from the Journal and glared at him. When Bill only smirked and shrugged in response, Dipper laughed and rolled his eyes.

"How else do you expect me to define the need for a certain magical quality that human beings lack?" Bill asked rhetorically. "That's just about the best description I can provide. Sure there are ways to keep the forest from screwing up your sense of direction, but there's no need for me to write that, seeing as it's already included in Stanley's gift. You'll see what I mean later."

Dipper was about to pry and demand to know then and there what Bill was talking about, but they were interrupted by a rustling in the leaves above them as Wendy dropped down from ten feet in the air nearby, having just hastily hopped from branch-to-branch-to-ground. She held a single, thick, green pine needle with a brown tip at the end where it had been pulled from its bark, grasped firmly in her right hand. She held it out triumphantly.

"See? Ten minutes. Never doubt a Corduroy!"

Bill smirked and took the needle from her, inspecting it. "Not the best, but it'll do. And of course I never doubted your capabilities, I just wanted you to rush so I wouldn't have to be waiting around for too long. I need to sleep before Mabel returns from shopping."

Wendy blanched as Bill casually began to stroll back in the direction of the Mystery Shack. "Why you…." She wanted to be angry, and she was, but part of her was simply amused. She snorted and began to follow Bill through the forest.

Dipper stepped up next to her. "Are you alright? You've got a few scratches, and your hair's kind of a mess."

Wendy shrugged. "What a charmer," she said sarcastically, making Dipper blush lightly. "It's nothing serious, just had a run in with some weird talking crows ***** near the top that _someone_ didn't mention." She raised her voice a bit and looked at Bill towards the end of her response, ensuring that Bill could hear her as he walked a mere two meters ahead of them.

"Oh, yes, I'd quite forgotten about them. Or maybe I just didn't feel the need to mention them since I know Corduroys, such as yourself, can handle these types of small setbacks. And you did handle it just fine, didn't you?" Wendy only scoffed again in reply as the trio returned to the Mystery Shack, Bill humming a seemingly abstract, undeterminable tune along the way.

 ***Minor reference to Kiki's Delivery Service, in case anyone was wondering.**

 **A/N: Happy Resurrection Sunday/Easter/whatever you call today.**

 **Canon doesn't specifically say that Dip and Mabes are Jewish, but it practically almost does. Either which way, that's just what I'm going with. Won't matter too much for the story anyway.**

 **And in case anyone wants to know, I'm NOT planning on turning this into a Bill-finds-God-and-prays-and-that's-where-the-redemption-comes-from kind of fic. Not because I'm opposed to the idea: In fact, I'm sure that for every person who would hate the story going that way there's also someone who would love it. I'm just not taking the story in that direction. For lots of reasons and also kind of at the same time for no reason at all. *Insert Me Shrugging***

 **\\_(** **ツ** **)_/**

 **So anyway, hope you liked the read. Remember! Reviews=Faster Updates. Reality=Magicians' Playground. Universe=MATRIX? Buy Gold=Economic Security. BYE=C'ya.**

 **Yup, I think I finally understand what Bill was saying. "We live. In. The MATRIX." Lol. XD**


	39. Chapter 37: Sleep Well

**Chapter 37: Sleep Well**

 **A/N: Guess who's got a Journal Three now? You can expect various things from that to show up eventually. I've already got a bazillion ideas. ;3**

 **For anyone who doesn't know, I've got a real-life Dipper and Mabel, too. That, in combination with the Journal, gives me more inspiration than anyone could possibly need. XD**

 **(If you've ever herd me mention a "little friend" of mine, that's my IRL Mabel. Haha.)**

 **Okay, enough Author (Me) History. (Lol.) On to the story!**

Upon arriving back at the Shack, instead of sitting down to watch TV, Dipper and Wendy both followed Bill as he made his way to the vending machine.

"Now, _technically_ , Ford told me I wasn't allowed into the lab if he wasn't here. Threatened to kill me and all that, but I just need a roll of old parchment he keeps down there. He has lots of the stuff, and I only need a bit. Maybe fifteen inches by ten inches. Either we can all go down there and get some, or Pine Tree can go," Bill said.

"Ford won't mind you using it? You know he's going to find out you took some as soon as you give him his gift," Dipper pointed out.

Bill waved off his concern. "I'm not planning on hiding it from him that we used some. He won't mind, I'm sure; especially not since I'm increasing its value by turning it into his gift. I only don't want him to think that I went down there without him, or alone. If you both go with me he'll likely overlook the small infraction on the rules, but I'd prefer for Pine Tree to just go get it so I don't have to go down there at all."

Dipper shrugged and entered the code for the vending machine. "Yean, okay, fine. I'll go get it."

"Do you know where it is?" Bill asked. "If not I can tell you."

Dipper waved off his concern. "I've worked with Ford in the lab too, you know. I know what you're talking about and where he keeps it." Dipper entered the elevator. "I'll be right back."

Bill and Wendy waited in the gift shop for Dipper to emerge. Bill sat down at the counter, not because any customers were going to be showing up, but simply because he was tired. The shop, as Stan and Soos had agreed, would stay closed until Monday. Bill had almost fallen asleep when Dipper returned a few minutes later, a tanned and rolled bit of paper in his hands.

Bill stood, picking up the rolled paper that was Stan's gift off the counter and taking the older, edge-torn paper from Dipper's hands. He walked into the kitchen and set the papers down, unrolling the aged parchment.

"Like many wines, paper is best for use in spells when it's aged for several long years. This looks to be about forty-five," Bill observed. He lifted the paper and smelt it lightly. "Preserved with tea too. Good. It'll do nicely." Bill pulled the pine needle out of his back left pocket, leaving the pen he'd used before in his right. Dipper and Wendy watched silently as Bill left the parchments and needle on the kitchen table, going over to the kitchen counter.

"Would you mind going to get a couple of bandages?" Bill directed to Dipper.

"Bandages?" Dipper asked, confused. "Why would you need…."

Bill picked up a disposable paper plate and set it on the kitchen table before lifting a knife out of its respective drawer.

"Woah, hey!" Wendy started, taking her hands out of her pockets and racing forward. Neither she nor Dipper succeed in stopping Bill before he'd slit his right wrist, holding it over the paper plate and watching the blood pool on the disk.

Wendy grabbed his left hand and, with no reaction nor resistance from Bill, she took the knife from him, dropping it into the kitchen sink.

"Somehow I knew you wouldn't like that, though I don't know why," Bill commented. Dipper ran back into the kitchen with some bandages and instantly began wrapping Bill's wrist.

"You're not supposed to hurt anyone Bill! That's rule number one!" Dipper said angrily, tying off the bandage. Bill didn't protest or pull his arm away, only wincing slightly at the pain and calmly picking up the pine needle, dipping the brown tip into his blood.

"I don't count. I'm allowed to hurt myself," Bill objected slightly, already beginning to write – Draw? Dipper couldn't tell – on the parchment before him, his left fingers gliding across the paper, the needle leaving red lines and splotches behind it. "Besides, the only ink good enough to use for this task is my own blood. Even your average human blood wouldn't have been good enough, Pine Tree. I suppose we could have found a magical creature out in the forest, but that's much more of a hassle than just using my own blood, don't you think? Either way, the blood needs magic."

Dipper wanted to protest more, insist that Bill was in the wrong, but he didn't press, deciding instead to leave that topic for a later discussion. A discussion to be had when Mabel was around, he imagined. For now he asked: "This sure is a complicated spell you're concocting. What will it do?"

"You'll see at a later date," was the only answer Bill gave in response. "Unless you want to demand that I tell you now?" Bill stopped writing for a moment, looking back at Dipper over his left shoulder.

Dipper considered the option for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "No, it's fine, I can wait until you give it to Grunkle Ford. So help me God though, if you betray the trust I'm putting in you right now, I'll let Ford do whatever he wants to you."

Bill smirked, despite the threat, and continued to write. "I've nothing to worry about then, have I?"

Dipper smirked in return, his nervousness easing slightly, but not evaporating altogether. Dipper had always been the more paranoid type, and he wasn't sure why, but he could sense that something just wasn't quite right. His gut told him that something was about to change drastically, but his heart knew that distrusting Bill now would damage the relationship they had been building.

At the very least, Dipper was confident that even if Bill tried anything, they would be able to handle the situation, and Bill very likely wouldn't kill any of them. How much, after all, could Bill really accomplish with some paper and a pine needle? If they defeated him at the peak of his power during Weirdmageddon, Dipper was sure they could manage Bill's funny business now. The way Dipper saw it, the most he had to loose by trusting Bill right now was trust itself.

Wendy went back to watching TV while Dipper sat across from Bill at the kitchen table, working on Journal Four. He got distracted by his work, as he tended to do, and by the time he looked up Bill had completed Ford's present and rolled it into a cylinder that lay next to Stan's similar gift. Bill now laid sleeping with his arms crossed over the table and his head resting in the crook of his elbow.

Dipper laughed lightly and looked at the two rolled parchments on the kitchen table. Dipper supposed that the most Bill had to offer right now was information, so it wasn't surprising that both gifts involved writing something down.

Dipper's eyes then fell on the paper plate still holding a pool of Bill's blood, which by now had gone from a deep red to a slightly rustier tone. Disgusting by it and not wanting to look at it anymore, Dipper carefully lifted the plate and dropped it in the trash.

Finally he noticed that the pine needle was resting on the table and, where before it had been green and lively, it now looked frail and brown.

"The magic only lasts a short time after it's dislodged from the tree," Bill's voice answered Dipper's unasked question. Dipper looked to him and saw that Bill was sill leaning against his crossed arms, though his eyes had opened and his head was slightly more up-right.

"Didn't mean to wake you," Dipper apologized, but Bill shook his head.

"You didn't. Mabel just returned from shopping. I can smell the gunpowder of fireworks."

"Huh, now that you point it out, I can smell it too. Faintly," Dipper agreed. Bill stood, stretched, and proceeded to greet Mabel at the front door.

As soon as he opened the front door a bundle of fireworks was shoved into his arms and a rambling Mabel pushed past with streamers and balloons still in her hands.

"Hey Bill! I figured that you must know how to set up fireworks since you know like everything and I thought you might enjoy managing them so you set up the fireworks in the front yard with Soos near the totem pole and Dipper, Wendy and I will decorate in here! Hurry up though because Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford could be back any minute from flipping the boat back over, and make sure the fireworks aren't visible when you set them up!"

Bill hesitated for a few moments, almost having to re-play what Mabel had said in slow motion in his head to understand the jumble of words she'd spoken. When he thought he'd heard her instructions correctly, he shrugged and carried the fireworks outside.

"Really Mabel? You think it's a good idea to just hand Bill Cipher an armful of fireworks?!" Dipper asked, astonished by his sister's carelessness.

"You were letting him make magic spells just a few minutes ago," Wendy pointed out. "Isn't that, like, way more dangerous?" She asked as she took some of the streamers from Mabel and began to hang them in high places around the room, where the kids couldn't easily reach.

Dipper rolled his eyes, but supposed that she was right and didn't bother Mabel with it any further.

"So Bill _did_ make a present for Ford?" Mabel asked as she tied a balloon to a lamp.

Dipper nodded before taking the cake Mabel had set on the living room table and carrying it to the kitchen, not noticing the overly pleased look on his sister's face.

… **.**

The next thirty minutes or so were spent in a flurry of movement, most if it being a pink blur that darted around the room.

"Why are we doing this today if their birthday isn't until tomorrow?" Dipper asked as he and Wendy finished tying up a Mabel-made birthday banner.

"Because I want there to be _some_ surprise for them! And since there's two of them, we should at least have the decorations up for two days instead of one! Even if we aren't celebrating until tomorrow."

"I think you just like having all these decorations up. You'd probably keep the Shack decorated all year long if we let you," Dipper teased, Mabel laughing in response but not denying the accusation. "And the fireworks? Why do those have to be set up today? What if it rains?"

"I don't want them to know about the fireworks until they're being set off! If we went out to set them up tomorrow, one of the birthday boys might see us! You do have a point about the rain though." Mabel seemed to contemplate for a moment before snapping. "I know! I bet Bill can tell if it's going to rain just by looking at the sky!"

Mabel threw the back door to the Mystery Shack open and leaned out, calling: "HEY BILL! IS IT GOING TO RAIN BETWEEN NOW AND TOMORROW NIGHT?!"

There was a few moments of hesitation, which Dipper assumed was Bill contemplating the question and assessing his surroundings, before a distant shout of "NO" was heard in response.

"THANKS!" Mabel slammed the door shut enthusiastically, the whole Shack creaking in protest. "See? No problem!"

Dipper laughed and rolled his eyes, exiting the Shack and approaching where Soos and Bill were setting up fireworks near the tree line by the front parking lot. A quick glance back confirmed to Dipper that Mabel hadn't followed him and Wendy was likely back to reading magazines.

"Hey Bill," Dipper began as he approached, "how can you tell what the weather will be like?"

"I've been around for a long time, kid. You start to recognize the patterns…. Or, that's what I _would_ have said if I wasn't obligated to tell the whole truth. In reality, the weather can change in the blink if an eye, with little to no warning. To really be able to tell the weather accurately I'd have to be able to see the entire world's climate, atmosphere, and moisture levels all at once, which I used to be able to do, but currently can't."

"So then how do you know it won't rain?"

Bill shrugged. "This is a rainy town, so no guarantees, but I estimate a less than twenty-five percent chance of rain based on the current atmospheric humidity, as I am capable of observing it while in this form."

"Twenty-five percent is still a decent chance of rain, and if it does rain when we aren't expecting it then the fireworks could be ruined! " Dipper frowned. "So why would you tell Mabel it won't rain?"

"See it this way," Bill began, "there's _less_ than a quarter probability of it raining, so if it doesn't rain Mabel will be pleased with both me and our progress on this party; a seventy-five percent, if not greater, chance of that happening. But if I told her it might rain from the start, that's a guarantee for her to stress out over the fireworks needing to be set up before tomorrow night without the older twins knowing. And then if it _didn't_ rain she might not be too pleased with me for telling her it might."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Alright, so you were willing to make bet, take a chance on it not raining, but what happens if it _does_ rain, in which case she _will_ be mad at you for telling her it wouldn't, _and_ the fireworks are ruined?"

Bill scoffed as Soos, who had previously walked away towards the back of the Shack, approached with a large light-brown plastic tarp. "Rain doesn't automatically mean ruin, Pine Tree. I'm not _stupid_ , unlike some people I know."

Dipper glared at him before snorting. "A tarp…. Okay, yeah, that'll work."

"I know." Bill smirked and took the tarp from Soos, covering the assortment of fireworks which Bill had just finished running fuses through in various combinations. Dipper only got a glance at the bottle rockets, flares, and complicated fuse set-up before Bill covered it with the tarp.

The trio looked up as the sound of tires on a dirt road reached them.

"Guess they're back," Dipper observed. "We should head inside before they see us standing here." The others nodded and headed indoors, finding Mabel in the kitchen hiding the cake so their Grunkle Stan wouldn't be tempted to eat some before tomorrow night.

"They're back," Soos warned, and Mabel hastily finished hiding the birthday cake behind a bag of oranges in the fridge, slamming it shut just as the front door to the Shack swung open.

Mabel hastily ran to greet her Grunkles, tackling them in a Mabel-style bear hug. "Surprise!" She gestured to the decorations around her.

"They're, um, very nice," Ford commented. "But our birthday isn't until tomorrow. You and Dipper should be resting; you had a long night."

"I wouldn't be able to surprise you if it was tomorrow," Mabel said somewhat incoherently, stifling a large yawn. "I think I will go take a nap though."

"Ditto," Soos agreed. "Wendy is already passed out on the arm chair in front of the TV."

Dipper tapped his sister on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go sleep for a few hours."

"'Till morning, I say!" Stanley laughed. "I told ya, old men need their rest. I'm crashin' 'till tomorrow morning. Don't bother me 'till then." The others agreed and they split up, most of them off to bed or, in Soos' case, home. Stan kicked Wendy (not literally) out if his chair and sent her home as well.

Ford and Bill were the only two still standing by the front door. They looked to each other.

"I'm going to my room to work on the Journals," Ford clarified, heading for the stairs. Bill followed.

"Sounds good. I think Stanley had the right idea about sleeping until tomorrow morning." The wooden stairs creaked as they walked down them, Ford making a B-line for his bedroom door and Bill approaching his cage.

He opened the cage door and tossed the two rolled parchments that were Stan and Ford's gifts into the corner before lifting his quilt and wrapping it around himself.

Ford hesitated in his doorway and glanced back at Bill, watching as he picked up his blanket. Before Bill could sit down and rest, Ford walked over to the cage Bill had just finished locking himself into and unlocked the door.

Ford couldn't prevent himself from flinching when Bill's immediate response to Ford's sudden bizarre activity was one of terror. His eyes went wide and he jerked away from the open side of the cage, dropping his blanket, heart beating fast, eyes wide with confusion and fear.

Bill saw the flinch, of course, but it did nothing to ease his fright. He stood, tense, unmoving as Ford stepped back from the cage, leaving it open.

Ford motioned with his hand for Bill to come. "Follow me," he instructed quietly and walked to his room.

Bill's heart pounded in his chest because, honestly, what could Ford possibly want Bill to do in his room? Bill hadn't been in there in the entire week-and-a-half-or-so since he began living with the Pines.

Cautiously, Bill slowly followed Ford into the old man's room, pushing the door open slightly. Ford had sat down at his desk and begun working on the Journals immediately. Bill entered the room, curiosity now beginning to fade into his emotions as Ford didn't stand from his work table or look back at him.

Bill was startled by Ford's sudden voice in the silent room: "You can sleep there tonight." Ford pointed to their right, at the couch that Ford himself usually slept on (since the room still lacked a bed), a beige blanket folded neatly on the end of the couch with a white pillow on top.

It took Bill a moment to process what Ford had said, and several moments longer to try and determine if it was some sort of trick, trap, or test.

"If you _want_ to sleep in the cage, be my guest. I just figured you'd like something near an actual bed after such a long night." Bill hesitated a moment longer before silently approaching the couch. He settled himself in under the cover, easily fitting onto the same couch which, when Ford slept on it, left legs and arms dangling over the sides. He curled up and pulled the blanket tightly around his shoulders. Despite the fear still lingering in his mind, he couldn't stop himself from falling asleep instantly. The couch, after all, was the most comfortable place he'd been permitted to sleep since his return.

Ford continued to write in the Journal for several hours, also editing maps and other documents he kept in the room. It was near ten that night that he stood to stretch for a moment. He glanced to the couch where, on a usual night, he might have retired to, but currently he couldn't for obvious reasons.

Ford stepped up to the couch silently so as not to awaken the small sleeping form there. He considered for a moment picking him up and taking him back to his cage, or waking him and making him walk himself. The memory of what happened when he'd opened the cage door a few hours prior made him hesitate and instead he soon found himself subconsciously repositioning the blanket to fit more snuggly around Bill's shoulders.

" _I'm sorry,"_ he whispered quietly, knowing that the unconscious form before him wouldn't hear, but feeling better for saying it just the same.

Ford stood and went back to his desk, working for an hour longer before inevitably falling asleep with his right cheek pressed against various papers.

 **A/N:** **Remember! Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, buy gold, BYE~!**


	40. Chapter 38: Happy Birthday Stan & Ford

**Chapter 38: Happy Birthday Stan & Ford**

 **A/N: As you know, it is now Sunday, June 15** **th** **, 2014: Stan and Ford's 64th Birthday. Or, at least, in this story it is. XD**

 **There's been debate in the GF fan-base on how old Stan and Ford are: I say they're 64 in 2014 because that would make them 50 years older than Dipper and Mabel, and it helps keep the numbers straight because then for all four of them, the last digit in the year is the second digit of their age. ^^**

 **Special thanks to _Vanessa Masters_ for my 300** **th** **review! And to all my other reviewers too, of course! You're all fantastic!**

 **Thanks to my readers, favoriters, followers, everyone! Enjoy the chapter!**

Bill awoke feeling more rested than he'd felt on any night prior. He sat up and stretched, a large yawn escaping him as he rubbed his right eye to clear it of sleep. He glanced round the room, realizing that, surprisingly enough, Ford was nowhere to be seen.

' _He left me unsupervised?'_ Bill wondered in astonishment. _'He really is getting cocky. So careless of him!'_ Bill looked around the room again, this time looking for anything of interest. _'Then again, there's hardly anything here that interests me, and there's nothing that's worth taking and running the risk of Ford finding out and punishing me.'_ Bill shrugged and left the warm embrace of the beige blanket. In the basement it was nearly always at least a little chilly in the morning, but with the sun shining softly through the little windows lining the wall it was warmer than Bill had expected.

He exited Ford's "bedroom". (Was a bedroom without a bed still a bedroom? Bill thought not.) He stopped off at his cage to pick up Stanley and Stanford's gifts, carrying the rolled parchments with him up the stairs to the kitchen.

"You slept like the dead!" Mabel instantly quipped when Bill entered the kitchen. "I went to get you twice and you wouldn't wake up!" She laughed.

"Knowing this town, sleeping like the dead isn't saying much," Bill pointed out.

The sound of Ford's laughter behind him nearly startled Bill into dropping the rolled parchments.

"A true enough observation, Cipher," Ford commented. "I think you might _possibly_ have earned a good night's sleep, so don't worry about it too much."

"We saved you some waffles." Dipper paused in his washing of the dishes to pull two stacked lukewarm waffles from the microwave, topping them with syrup and a scoop of vanilla ice cream, handing the plate to Bill before continuing with cleaning the dishes.

Bill mumbled an inaudible thanks and sat down at the kitchen table where Mabel was coloring with crayons and Ford was currently attempting to navigate a brand-new laptop; state of the arc. He'd found it eerily perched on one of his downstairs lab's workbenches that morning with a small, neatly written note simply reading "To Stanford" on it. It didn't take a signature or Sherlock Holmes to figure that Fiddleford had sent it to him as a birthday gift. Ford recalled a time long ago when Fiddleford had given him a similar device, but unlike the old laptops of the late nineteen-hundreds, Fiddleford's newest laptop design was small, durable, touchscreen, the works. And with McGucket's own personal security system installed, Ford didn't even have to worry about any hackers accessing his research. Ford was still hesitant to use it, but perhaps with the sheer volume of paper that was his research, digitizing wasn't the worst idea...

"Where are the others at?" Bill asked as he picked up a fork in his left hand and began on his breakfast.

"Stan's sleeping in even later than you," Ford scoffed. "Said that, in combination to the long night last night, a man always has a right to sleep in on his birthday. My brother and I may be the same age, but time's taken a bit more of a toll on him, I'd say."

Bill waved him off. "Unless something unnatural claims him, he still has a while left to go. At least, last time I checked he did."

Ford leveled him a deadpan look. "How..." He really didn't know what to say. How interesting? Horrible? Fantastic? In the end Ford just decided not to comment on Bill's statement. Instead he cleared his throat and said "Since the Shack is closed today Wendy is at home; she'll be around later for the party. Same goes for Soos. He doesn't live here, you know."

Bill laughed. "I _do_ know that, but at the same time I don't exactly believe it. He's always here so early and leaves after I go to bed. Some part of me is surprised he doesn't sleep on the roof every night!"

"He's always been rather enthusiastic about work: More so than usual now that he has partial ownership of the business," Ford said.

"Either way, he's coming by in a couple of hours to help set up for the party," Dipper commented as he completed his morning chore, turning off the faucet and draining the sink. "We're having it at five-PM."

Bill suddenly stopped and looked around, noticing the clock on the wall. "It's _noon?!_ " Bill suddenly realized.

"To be honest, none of us woke up until about ten, and it took another hour before Mabel endeavored to make breakfast in Stanley's absence," Ford admitted.

Bill paused in his chewing of his waffles. He'd been so hungry that he hadn't really inspected the sugary breakfast, and since he'd never actually _eaten waffles_ before, he hadn't noticed anything immediately strange, only savored the familiar taste of syrup that he'd had on pancakes several times before. Now he slowly looked down at the half-eaten pair of waffles, one stacked atop the other, and eyed them closely.

"Maybe I should clarify," Ford spoke up. "I'm not reckless enough to let a thirteen year old girl cook on the stove by herself. Well, at least not in a house made entirely of wood and with kitchen appliances that belong in a museum. She added sprinkles to the dough, but it's perfectly palatable. There are other people, in fact, who also put sprinkles into their waffles."

Mabel nodded. "Yup! I just _had_ to put sprinkles in their birthday waffles, and like Grunkle Ford said, people put lots of things in waffles! Sprinkles and chocolate chips and blueberries and bananas and gummy bears! I wish I'd had more to add in!"

"I'm not so sure about that last one," Dipper objected. Maybe on top, but inside?"

Bill inspected the treat. Now that it had been mentioned, there _were_ colorful bits in the center of the checkered breakfast treats, but in combination with the natural crunchiness of toasted processed wheat and sweetness of the syrup and vanilla ice cream, the sprinkles were hardly even noticeable. Bill shrugged it off and polished off another forth of the waffles, leaving a third or so left on the plate, the plate devoid of remaining ice cream and nearly clean of syrup. Dipper stood from the kitchen table and took the dish, washing it without having to be asked.

"I'm sure Dipper and Mabel will want to finish preparing for the party, so I'm going down to the lab and I'll be back up at four," Ford said, standing and heading for the vending machine. "You coming along, Cipher?"

Bill nodded and stood, waving a silent "c'ya later" to the younger twins before following Ford to the lab.

… **.**

The party was a huge turn-out, as tended to be the case whenever the Pines family hosted for the public. The shelves in the gift shop had been cleared away by Soos, Wendy, and the younger Pines while Stan stood in the background enjoying a glass of fresh lemonade. The drink had been Mabel's equivalent of a bribe in her attempt to prevent her Grunkle Stan from charging an entrance fee to the birthday celebration. He'd finally begrudgingly agreed when Mabel pointed out that people would be bringing gifts, like "a nice, cool, tall glass of freshly squeezed lemonade, for example." Stan had accepted the drink and let the subject drop, choosing instead to fantasize about the various expensive gifts he might receive, like money! He grinned for two hours straight.

Ford and Bill reemerged from the lab at four-PM, just as Ford had promised. Ford attended the party with loud, rave-like music and flashing colorful lights and giant crowds. He'd endured being lifted in a chair next to his brother and he'd forced himself to consume a decent amount of overly-sweet chocolate cake. He didn't in particular enjoy the celebration; these types of events were never his forte. But he did enjoy seeing the bright smiles on Dipper's and Mabel's faces as they hung out with their respective friends, and he enjoyed spending time with his brother while he was so clearly happy with life and overjoyed. Maybe parties weren't something Ford enjoyed, but he liked to see his family happy, so that was enough for him.

The party lasted until ten that night, featuring a piñata, cake, a dance competition and the crowning of the birthday boys, but not present-opening. It had been decided that that would wait until after everyone left, mostly because the Pines knew that if Stan got a cheap gift and the giver was standing nearby, there might be trouble.

At ten, the only people left in the shack were both sets of twins, Wendy, Soos, and Bill, who had fallen asleep in his cage, never making an appearance at the party. Ford had, of course, locked him in his cage and even locked the door to the basement: The _last_ thing they needed was someone from town recognizing him, and Ford knew from their time as friends over thirty years ago that Bill could be a _bit_ overzealous at parties…. The demon knew how to blend one _heck_ of a strong drink, and no one was particularly interested in finding out what would happen if Bill attempted to drink while in such a young body.

Ford handed Dipper the key to the basement and Dipper nodded, going down to retrieve Bill, surprised that he'd even been able to fall asleep with all the ruckus that had been going on upstairs.

Bill rubbed sleep from his eyes and followed Dipper up to the Shack, expecting that they wanted help cleaning up. To his surprise the group, instead of cleaning, was sitting at the kitchen table, a few choice presents, most of them wrapped in brightly colored paper, sitting on the table-top. Among the gifts were the two rolled parchments of paper that Bill had left on the gift table earlier that night and which Dipper had retrieved.

"We're not gonna open all of the presents tonight," Stan said, "but we're openin' the ones that matter most. Figured we might as well include you."

Bill blinked before nodding and sitting down at the table next to Mabel. There was exactly twelve gifts laid out on the table in varying sizes and colors. Looking now at the assortment, Bill couldn't help but feel self-conscious about his own gifts. They were both small, plain in appearance from the outside, and each present was similar to the other. Bill tried to push away the pesky human emotions of doubt and embarrassment. He tried to remind himself that the knowledge he was giving them was highly valuable, and besides, what more could they honestly expect from him? They should consider themselves lucky to be receiving gifts from him at all!

"Alright!" Mabel cheered as she returned from her search through the fridge, setting a plate of the birthday cake and three scoops of Neapolitan ice cream in front of Bill which he happily accepted. He hadn't, after all, been able to eat any of it, having been locked in the basement for the duration of the party and all. "Since it's you guys' birthday, you pick which order you want to open them in!" The look on Mabel's face clearly said _"pick mine first!"_ Ford smiled and reached for a single, very sparkly and glittery pink box.

Mabel gushed, elbowing Dipper on her left side and saying quietly "They just couldn't wait!"

Both of Mabel's gifts were in a single box with the title "Grunkle Stan" on the right side and "Grunkle Ford" on the left. The lid of the box was lifted and the freshly sixty-four year olds each grabbed their respective presents.

"Put them on!" Mabel cheered as her Grunkles laughed, shared a smile, and slid the sweaters on. They stood and looked down, Mabel snapping a picture as they did so. On the front of Stan's maroon sweater it read "TWIN," and on the front if Ford's similarly colored sweater it finished off with "SIES," completing the word "TWINSIES" when Stan stood to Ford's right side.

There were varying degrees of laughter and chuckles as the group around the table observed the gifts, Ford and Stan each thanking their Great Niece for the gift and leaving the sweaters on as they sat back down at the table.

Several presents were opened over the next few minutes: Stan received an _intriguing_ old-person magazine subscription from Wendy, and Ford got a rather nice screwdriver set with red handles from Soos. Dipper gave Stanley a fishing hat similar to the ones Stanley had given them, and Mabel took pictures as the whole exchange went down.

Stan and Soos got into a mild, friendly argument when Soos' gift ended up being a ceramic mug that said "#2 Man of Mystery" while holding up his own cup that declared himself as the "#1".

From Dipper Ford received a blast from the past.

"It took like five months, but I found all of the old little comic strips you used to do in college on eBay! I wish they'd been more popular," Dipper commented. Like many creative and talented college-goes, Ford had, at one point, attempted to make a comic. It was about a criminal named Lee who had unconventional methods but a good heart. It wasn't until now, years upon years later, that Ford was willing to admit who the comics had been based on. Owning a copy of the series again pleased Ford beyond belief.

Stanley still insisted that Dipper's present to him was better: A fishing hat similar to the ones Stan made for his family reading "STAN" on it in various colors. In the end they agreed to disagree.

Ford was surprised when he received a light-blue-wrapped present from Wendy. The two had really only talked to each other on a few occasions, but they had a lot in common: Of all the people in Gravity Falls, Ford and Wendy were the most skilled at combat and were always highly useful in emergency situations.

Ford neatly unwrapped the box and pulled out what was inside.

"I figured your pet could use a leash," Wendy commented as Stanford began to laugh hysterically, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Mabel grabbed the gift from Ford's six-fingered hands and held it up, curious as to what it was. Everyone save Bill began to laugh when they saw the child-leash Wendy had gifted the old scientist. Bill looked highly unamused and pouted, hating the thought of having to wear that thing, both because of the humiliation it would bring and because it would make him even more vulnerable than usual: Ford had been kinder lately, but Bill still didn't want to loose the ability to flee.

"If you _ever_ try to make me wear that, I'll bite you." Everyone laughed harder and Bill pouted, but seeing as laughter was highly contagious to the human race, he couldn't help the tiny bit of mirth that glittered in his golden eyes, despite the pout still on his face.

Stan finally picked up the rolled, white piece of parchment, if anything just to pacify the slightly seething demon at the table. "So this one's yours, Shorty?" Stan asked, beginning to unroll the paper. "It better be worth a fortune after all the money I've spent on you!"

"Actually, it is," Bill commented and Stanley's eyes instantly lit up and he quickly placed the paper flat on the table and peered down at it.

The paper looked like an aerial view of Gravity Falls, with various instructions etched into the bordering spaces around the edges of the paper, the handwriting all perfectly neat and the sketch of the down in perfect clarity and detail. In the top right corner was also a little compass pointer with four symbols appearing as if they'd been printed in red ink, a little arrow in the center of the letters pointing to the strange symbol meaning North, towards the top of the paper.

"I don't get it," Stan said. "Unless you're a famous artist withou' me knowin' it, this ain't worth a cent."

"It's a map, Stanley," Ford interjected, smacking his brother playfully on the back of his head for being an idiot and rolling his eyes before leaning down and looking at the map himself. He picked it up and a movement in the corner of the page caught his eye. He turned the paper side-ways and, to his surprise, the four capital letters representing direction spun around the arrow, the arrow always pointing the front of the page, but the symbol that only Bill knew represented East now at the tip of it. "The compass moves? Which symbols are which?" Ford asked, rotating the paper again and watching the symbols spin around the arrow.

Bill reached over and pointed at each symbol in turn, saying "North, South, East, and West" as he pointed at each paired symbol. "As you know Stanford, due to the downed spaceship under Gravity Falls, all compasses within a one-hundred mile radius point not North, but instead to the center of the ship. That makes treasure hunting rather difficult, especially on a cloudy day, so I enchanted a compass onto the paper."

"Just don't lick it," Dipper warned. "He used his _blood_ ," Dipper said, sounding disgusted and wrinkling his nose. Mabel consented with his emotions by adding an "eww". Wendy grimaced at the memory of Bill slicing his wrist open.

"Noted," Ford agreed before turning to Bill again. "Where does it lead?"

"Cursed gold," Bill responded, Stan's eyes gleaming once more. Knowing what Stanley wanted to know next, Bill added: "About eleven-million's worth."

Stan cheered, and lifted the paper from Ford's grasp. "Then what're we waitin' for? Let's go!" Ford stopped his twin with a six-fingered hand on his shoulder.

"Hold on Stanley, it's already night out, and besides, he said it was _cursed_."

"True," Bill agreed, "but you can use _your_ present to _in_ -curse it, along with a number of other uses Sixer."

Ford's eyes went wide and he instantly reached over and snatched up the paper still rolled on the kitchen table. This one was a darker, tan color, with clear ageing along the edges. He unrolled it and peered down at an array of symbols curving along the center of the page. In each corner there were designs, each the same as the other and symmetrical, featuring triangles, curving lines, and eyes watching that followed anyone looking at the paper. Everything on the page was perfectly and neatly drawn in red.

"What…. What is this?" Ford asked, Wendy and Dipper both holding their breaths, wary of what the gift might do. Ford held it away from himself cautiously, as if expecting it to suddenly burst into flames. The _only_ reason Bill _didn't_ give Ford a paper that spontaneously combusted was his fear of what could happen to himself while in such a weak form.

Ford squinted at it, as if recognizing what was on the large page, pulling it slightly closer to himself. "Is this a _Ouija board?_ "

"Bingo!" Bill laughed. Ford glanced at him before looking back down at the twenty-six symbols and the roman numerals underneath that.

"And I assume that this was also written with your blood?" Ford asked.

It was Wendy who nodded. "Yeah, scared us half to death when he slit his own wrist with a knife." Ford's eyes widened and Mabel began to reprimand Bill. Ford chose not to say anything, instead looking back down at the paper again.

"These are the same symbols you used to write in the Journal that I could never decipher!" Ford said with realization. "You're giving me your alphabet?"

Bill couldn't help but smirk at the wonder, enthusiasm and glee on Ford's face, his mind going back to thirty-odd years ago, when they'd been friends. Bill had always enjoyed watching Ford's face light up when Bill told him some new information, the scientist thrilled by promise of new adventure and wonder.

Bill nodded. "Yeah, that's right. I figured I might as well give it to you since Mason here already decoded it the other day when I let slip which characters were 'I' and 'J'." Bill knew that one of the first things Ford would do was go back through the Journals and decode his messages, but he didn't mind. It would only confirm that Bill didn't just make up the Axolotl after coming back in his human form, since he made mention of it in the Journals over thirty years ago.

"You'll show me how to use it?" Ford asked.

"Of course. It's not like a traditional Ouija board used for communication: It's more for summoning spirits, casting spells, stuff like that," Bill said, waving his hand in a repetitive motion in the air.

Ford nodded and sat down to look at it, having already opened all of his presents anyway.

"Hold up there, Poindexter!" Stan interrupted before Ford could get too absorbed in his new toy. "You've still got one more present left!" He said, pulling a box from his inner coat pocket.

Ford smirked and rolled the paper back up, placing it in his own coat pocket before reaching under the table and pulling out a large box. "I could say the same to you. I'd never forget to get my brother a gift on his birthday."

"Neither would I," Stan agreed. "But I might not send one on purpose!" They laughed and Ford opened his present from Stan first, finding a pair of shiny new brass knuckles which had been modified to accommodate his extra finger. He chuckled and pocketed them in his coat for safe keeping, so he'd always have them if he needed them.

Stan tore the paper off of his own gift in shreds, revealing a light blue cooler. He opened it up, a wave of cold air instantly filling the room. He quickly shut it after pulling out a beer from inside. "Pretty nice, bro. One of your inventions?"

Ford nodded. "The lining of the cooler is filled with ice-dragon tears: It'll never, ever become hotter than zero Celsius."

Seeing the perfect opportunity as the presents had been finished being received, Mabel suddenly screamed "GROUP HUG!" Soos wrapped an arm around each Stan and Ford, pulling them in. Wendy forced a blushing and laughing Dipper into it, and Mabel grabbed Bill with an arm around the neck before he could so much as utter a sound of resistance.

They stayed like that for only a few short moments before separating, Wendy waving goodbye as she headed home and Soos promising that he'd be back early the next morning to clean up the party before customers arrived. Dipper and Mabel raced upstairs to get ready for bed and Stan opted to fall asleep on the recliner in the living room.

Bill and Ford headed back downstairs and, just like the night before, Bill was allowed to sleep on Ford's couch. This time he curled up on only half of the couch while Ford sat on the other end. Ford fell asleep while sitting upright, his ex-friend-turned-enemy-turned-acquaintance sleeping only a few inches away.

And Bill hogged all the covers, of course.

 **A/N: Might be important for me to note that it's fine if you see something as slash, as long as you know that I'm not intentionally going to ship Bill with anyone in this story.**

 **My little Mabel-esque friend pairs Bill with** _ **me.**_ **It's creepy. I dread the day she writes a fanfiction. Lol. XD**

 **I sort-of drew a version of the Ouija Bill gave to Ford. You can see that on my DeviantArt profile if you want help picturing what it'd look like.**

 **Again, thanks to everyone for all of the support, views, reads, favorites, follows, and reviews! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	41. Chapter 39: Curing Blindness

**Chapter 39: Curing Blindness**

 **A/N: Warnings for violence, gore, sadness, and sort-of child abuse (depends on whether you think Bill counts as a child or not).**

On Monday everything went back to normal. Or at least, it became as normal as anything could be in the town of Gravity Falls and with Dream Demon Bill Cipher sleeping in your basement.

The Shack was open for business and a decent amount of tourists came in, a town-folk occasionally dropping by to comment on the party the night before and make general small-talk with the well-loved Pines family. Stanley spent his free time combing through the gifts he'd received from other townspeople and occasionally peeking into Stanford's as well. What Stanley quickly discovered was that nobody in the town really knew much about Ford yet: He didn't wear tracksuits, wouldn't want a book on jokes, and he wouldn't appreciate the two-hundred-odd bucks various people left in birthday cards, so Stan decided to pocket the cash. Ford never needed to know….

Mabel and Dipper helped Soos, Stan, and Wendy with the Shack, as usual. And Bill and Ford? Spent the majority of their time in the lab. Only _this_ time Stanford actually let Bill mix various solutions for Ford's studying. Ford was cautious still, of course, watching every move the demon made and predicting what the concoction would look like, making sure he wasn't trying to mix anything poisonous or highly explosive or anything of the such. By the end of the day Ford not only had the basic solution the ants used re-created, but also a weapon in which he could heat the solutions to various precise degrees and add in small amounts of other elements to decide what the venom would do before injecting it into a target. He locked it away in his weapons vault, figuring it too dangerous to carry around for every-day use.

Monday passed in a satisfied blur, relaxed and productive. When Bill and Ford finally retired for the night, Bill found an air mattress tucked into the corner of Ford's room, complete with light mustard yellow bedding. He'd thought the couch was comfortable, but it was a bed of needles compared to the plush new yellow fabrics and weightless illusion cast by the air mattress!

… **. 6:00 PM Tuesday, June 17** **th** **, 2014 ….**

The Shack had just closed for the day, but Ford and Bill were still down in the lab working diligently, even as the people above went through closing procedures and preparations for dinner.

Bill glanced up from the research Ford was having him comb through for mistakes, smiling as he witnessed the scientist's enthusiasm. Stanford always looked dark and brooding unless he was wrapped up in some nerdy endeavor. Currently he was decoding the messages Bill had long ago left in the Journals using the decryption Bill had provided him two nights prior. Bill smirked at the old man's glee and continued with his own work.

He was surprised when, a few minutes later, Ford snapped the not yet fully decoded Journal closed and looked up.

"Cipher?"

Bill looked up from his work. "Yeah?"

"Will you…. Tell me about the Nightmare Realm?"

Bill was surprised that Ford was so blatantly asking such a personal question. Bill had already told him that it was his home, and that it was well on its way to being destroyed.

Bill frowned just a little, turning back to the documents in front of him as his eyes bled into a scarlet glow. "You've been there, albeit very briefly. Now you want me to tell you everything about it so you can record it all down in your Journals? ….No." Bill knew that, technically, by the terms of their agreement, he couldn't deny Stanford any information he wanted, but Bill felt that Ford had become relaxed enough around him not to punish him for refusing to speak. Even if Ford did punish him, Bill decided that he wouldn't stand for having Ford record everything Bill knew about his home, as if he was a camera crew documenting an endangered species before it was gone forever.

Ford set the Journal, his paper, and his pen down on a nearby table, Bill secretly watching him intently out of the corner of his eye. "I won't write any of it down. Won't record it anywhere. I promise."

Bill was surprised, yet again. He looked back up at Ford before sighing and setting his own pen down. He turned in his swivel chair to face Ford.

"Alright Stanford, you win, as usual. What do you want to know?" His eyes shown golden once more under the soft artificial lights in the lab.

"How many beings live there?"

Bill flinched, knowing exactly what Ford really meant. _'How many will die when your dimension collapses?'_

Bill hesitated before vaguely saying "Billions".

Ford waited. He knew that Bill was all-seeing in his dimension. He, at the very least, knew exactly how many creatures had been there as of last year.

Bill sighed again, elaborating by saying: "Nine-hundred and seventy-six billion, last I checked."

"That's not just billions, Cipher, that's nearly a trillion!"

Bill's eyes turned red again and he averted them, anger burning inside him. Was that what Stanford wanted to hear? That Bill had lost to him so badly that now a trillion of his friends were going to _die_?

Except when he looked up at Ford again, he didn't look smug or victorious. He looked troubled, maybe even sad. "I'm sorry, Bill."

' _I never wanted that. I can't let you take over my world, but that doesn't mean I want yours to die.'_

Bill's eyes turned gold again, but they were duller, less glittery than before. He didn't verbally respond.

"And those near trillion, those are just the sentient ones?" Bill nodded mutely.

Trying to lighten the conversation a bit, Ford asked: "What's your favorite part of the Nightmare Realm?"

Bill smirked lightly, still sad, but now fondly remembering his home as well. "I never stayed in one place too long: With so much to see there was always something new, and even if I could see it all at once, I wanted to _be_ there. Because it's such a chaotic place, by the time I made a full round and ended up at a location I'd been before, the area always looked completely different. There was always something new, and it was always great fun. Quite the party." Bill paused. "But even so, the cool things meant nothing without the company. My Nightmare Gang…. You met them, I'm sure you recall."

Ford nodded and leaned in closer, almost falling out of his chair, intrigued. Bill chuckled.

"Me and them, we've been together for so, so long. They followed me everywhere, and I'd do anything for them. Everyone knew me, of course. They all thought I was going to save them because, honestly, no one else could. They can't leave the Nightmare Realm without a physical tear: I'm the only one that can go anywhere conscious minds exist. Plus I didn't originate from the Nightmare Realm, so I'm not trapped there like they are, or like you're trapped here in the third dimension and its various branches. Still, if I had to pick a favorite thing, it'd be them. If the whole dimension was destined to be destroyed, no matter what I did. If I couldn't save anyone else…. I'd just want to save them. It wouldn't be so bad as long as they made it out alive."

Ford knew what he meant: If the Earth were destroyed, Ford would feel terrible, and he'd wish there was something he could do to save everyone, but if his family was still alive and with him, he'd still be able to cope without a home. As long as he had them.

Ford was about to ask for more specifics on how Bill and his gang got together in the first place when a sudden loud, high-pitched whistle interrupted them, making them jump.

"It's just one of the gas pipes leaking again." Ford relaxed, standing and picking up a metal pipe-clamp and one of the red-handled Philips-headed screwdrivers Soos had given him. He placed the clamp over the section of loose pipe and began to tighten the clamp with the screwdriver.

Bill stood and approached from the right, watching Ford work for a few moments. He considered…. In the last few days, he and Ford had become much more at ease around each other. It'd already been half a week since the last time Ford hit him…. And hadn't Bill just said that he'd do _anything_ for his Nightmare Gang? His best friends?

Swallowing his fear, Bill suddenly said: "We should make another portal."

Ford paused while working on the pipe before laughing nervously and continuing to tighten the clamp. "Don't joke like that, Bill."

"You think I'm joking? About _this_?" Bill watched Ford intently, the man pausing again in his work, still not facing Bill.

"But I know you can't be serious." Ford looked at him over his right shoulder. "You know we can't, and you know I won't allow it."

"This time it'll be different! This time..."

"You won't loose?" Ford asked, frowning. "Yeah, I'm afraid of that."

"That's not what I meant! I mean that, this time, you'll be there the whole time, you'll know everything. And I won't try and combine the dimensions!"

Ford frowned more and looked away, trying to focus on fixing the pipe, his hands trembling, already knowing where this was going. "That's enough Bill."

"I only want to pull my gang through. Even just a few of them would be enough!"

"I said that's enough!" Ford snapped. He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry Bill, I am, but you _know_ why we can't make another portal. It's too dangerous!"

Fear gripped Bill once more as Ford's anger rose, but with his friends in mind he persisted: After all, Ford would only get angry if he knew there was a chance of Bill convincing him, right?

"You wouldn't be saying that if the people you were saving were Dipper, or Mabel, or your brother, right, Stanford? You think that just because they're strange my friends are monsters?" Ford didn't respond, dangerously aware of how close he was coming to sympathizing too much with the Dream Demon.

"Stop," Ford whispered dangerously.

"You've opened the portal plenty of times! McGucket even stuck his head into the Nightmare Realm and returned! You were there yourself for a short time before going off to another dimension! The world didn't end on any of those occasions! We only have to let a few through! It won't be like opening an entire rift!" Ford ignored him. "Stanford... _please,_ " he finished in a whisper.

Ford was terrified: Terrified of saying _yes_ , and of saying _no;_ terrified of condemning so many to death, but also of endangering his own species and loved ones.

He was scared out of his wits and in that way he became witless, and he lashed out for what would be the final time.

Stanford's right hand shot out and back behind him, aiming to slap Bill across his right cheek. Ford wasn't looking to beat him, or to seriously harm; he just wanted, needed, to remind himself, and Bill, that he was still the one in charge. His six-fingered hand shot back almost on its own accord...

But instead of a sharp, resonating _slap_ there was a guttural, squishy, sickening sound. The sound of piercing flesh, followed by blood sloshing to the floor and silence.

For a moment they both stood. Ford peered back over his right shoulder with wide eyes before slowly pulling his right hand back away from the small form behind him and dropping the now bloody screwdriver, its tip gleaming a darker red than the plastic of its handle.

The air was still and silent as Bill slowly lifted his right hand, touching lightly where his right eye hardly still was. His fingers came away coated in sticky red gore, visible through his left eye, only solid darkness in his right.

Bill felt light-headed and for a moment he staggered, almost passing out. Ford lunged forward to help him, to analyze, assess, and treat the wound, but Bill's mind finally caught up to what had just happened and all at once he was more than furious; he was _livid, enraged._ Words that in the dictionary defining the emotions that controlled Bill Cipher were entirely synonymous with fear, _terror_ , and _desperation_.

 _Somewhere far off and nearby at the same time, The Axolotl watched, shocked. It had known, of course, that this would be the outcome. That very morning it had reflected to itself on the horrors that would take place that day, yet knowing what was coming did not prevent the surprise and sorrow that overcame the benevolent being, and its control for a few moments slipped on slick sympathy._

And as The Axolotl lost control, Ford jumped back, startled as azure flames illuminated every dark crevice of the underground lab. Bill's fury, his fear, pushed past any reserves The Axolotl held on his powers and manifested themselves in blue heat, tossing Ford back and slamming him against the wall.

Bill hadn't anticipated, hadn't even considered, the idea that his human body couldn't even _manage_ such a power surge and he, as well, was thrown backwards, crumpling to the ground in a heap. Ford stood and tried once again to approach, to lend aid, but, still fueled by adrenaline and a limited return of his powers, Bill managed to get to his feet and run for the elevator before Ford reached him.

"Bill! Wait!" Ford tried in vain as the elevator door closed, the blue flames still flickering in the darkness, slowly fading away….

 **A/N: Hope you all…. I would say** _ **enjoyed**_ **, but that feels a little wrong, given the circumstances. X'D**

 **I tried not to be too descriptive because I still consider this story to be rated T, and I have a talent for describing gore. Didn't want anyone throwing up while reading. ^^;**

 **Reviews greatly appreciated! Tune back in around Wednesday or Thursday for the next chapter!**


	42. Chapter 40: Encounter

**Chapter 40: Encounter**

 **A/N:** **I gotta say, SO many people thought Gideon was the storm brewing on the horizon. Hahaha. All I can say is that** _ **that**_ **particular storm is a bit further off. ;)**

 **For now, observe the pretty storm directly overhead. XD**

Wendy looked up in surprise when the snack machine suddenly began to swing open. She quickly glanced at the customers who were perusing the gift-shop isles and said: "Look! There's something really cool outside!" She pointed to the door and, somewhat because of the urgency in her voice, but mostly because of their own stupidity, the tourists instantly began to flock outside.

"Hey, hey, hey! What're ya doin'?" Stan protested, but paused when he heard a sudden gasp from Mable, who had just approached the vending machine.

Bill stood, leaning heavily against the open door, blue flames still lightly glowing around his hands. Dipper noticed the flames just as they died off, but all thought of them fled as he looked at Bill's face.

The image was horrific and scarring; Dipper was almost thankful that there was so much blood, covering what would no doubt be a most horrific sight in the region of Bill's right eye socket. The entire area was entirely bloody and scarlet, masking the worst of the gore. The red liquid streamed down from Bill's right eye socket in more volume than tears could ever produce, staining the entire front side of his yellow sweater a damp velvet. Dipper once again noticed a slight electric blue light tingeing the blood, making it gleam in spots, but he didn't comment on it: Questions took a back seat to what Dipper could only imagine was Bill bleeding to death right there in the gift shop. Instead he shook himself from his initial stunned, motionless state and raced forward. He paused, not sure exactly of what he should do, before gently grasping Bill's forearms. The body beneath his grasp trembled terribly.

"Soos, close the shop!" Stan instructed in a harsh whisper and, with tears in his eyes, Soos silently and hastily complied.

Wendy instantly went for the medical kit they kept in the kitchen, not sure of what use it would really be, while Mabel stood motionless for a few moments more, trapped in disbelief at what she was seeing. _Hadn't everything been going_ _ **so well**_ _?_

Dipper gently helped Bill lay on the ground, the small blonde silent through his pain, not looking up at any of those around him, still in a daze. Dipper's front side was all too quickly coated in blood as he sat Bill in his lap and examined the wound as best he could, accepting gauze from Wendy when she offered them. Dipper was conflicted between not touching the wounded area so as not to inflict further damage and applying pressure to stop the bleeding. As it was, Bill was already completely unresponsive to any attempts to speak with him.

"He needs to go to the hospital," Stan suddenly decided, pulling out his car keys and leaning over to take Bill from Dipper's hold.

"No," a gruff voice said, and Stan looked up to see his twin entering the room via the very same port that Bill had come from. "There isn't time, and it'll raise too many questions."

"If you think I'm letting _you_ treat him, you're _dead wrong,_ " Stan said threateningly, and his comment finally snapped Mabel out of her shocked state.

"You... You did this?" Mabel realized, peering up at her Grunkle Ford with tears in her eyes. Ford didn't respond. "Why... How _could you? You promised not to hurt him!_ " She wailed.

Ford finally looked to his young relative, and Mable fell silent at the tears in his eyes: The sorrow and regret so evident on his features, despite his attempts at masking his emotions.

"I know," Ford said. "I'll explain everything later. Right now he needs treatment." Ford looked once again to his twin and Stanley, also recognizing the regret on Ford's face but still hesitant, nodded before following Stanford back down to the lab, Dipper and Mabel following closely behind.

"No, you two stay here," Stan objected as Ford began to close the vending-machine door. Mabel made to protest, but Dipper's hand on her shoulder caused her to fall silent. The younger twins watched quietly as the elder men carried the still bleeding form down to the lab, closing the secret doorway behind them.

Wendy put a reassuring hand on each of their heads. "You two get out of here. Go watch TV or play in your room or something. I'll get you as soon as they come out," she promised. The twins silently complied, making their way up to their room.

Wendy sighed once they'd gone and retrieved the mop and pail from their supply closet, setting to work on cleaning up the blood Bill had left behind on the wooden floors.

… **.**

Stan watched silently as his brother injected Bill with anesthesia before setting to work. Stan assisted whenever asked to, slowly pouring saline over the area and cringing as the extent of the damage became apparent. "What did you _do_?" Stan asked quietly, caught off guard by the extent of the injury. His twin didn't respond, instead collecting more gauze and slipping on six-fingered latex gloves.

Ford inspected the injury, regretfully determining that the eye couldn't be saved and would be best removed. Stan couldn't watch as his brother, with surgeon-like precision, carefully cleaned the wound, treating the also damaged back-side of the by now empty socket. Ford filled the gaping area with gauze and gently tied bandages around Bill's head to hold them in place. After nearly an hour spent treating the wound, Ford finished by setting up an IV drip and adding a steady but light stream of pain medications.

Ford stepped back and pulled off his gloves just in time to receive a forceful fist colliding with the left side of his face. He fell backwards onto the ground, but didn't so much as utter a sound in surprise: He knew he deserved it, and that this pain was nothing compared to what Bill would be waking up to.

"Now that that's out of the way," Stan said in a low, gruff voice, "tell mewhat happened."

Ford stood and didn't meet Stan's gaze. "It was…. Well, it wasn't exactly an accident. I was mad, and I did move to hit him, but I _swear_ Stanley, I didn't mean to do this!" He gestured to Bill's unconscious form. "He was trying to convince me to make another portal, and he always has had _such_ a way with words. I almost gave in. I needed to shut him up before he convinced me to do something I'd regret but….. But I wasn't aiming to do so much _damage_."

Stan sighed and nodded. "Well, it's done now either way. Ain't no use dwelling on it, at least not now. We need to know what's gonna come next before it gets here."

"That depends almost entirely on Bill," Ford argued. "I can't bring myself to believe that there's even the slightest chance he'll forgive me, at least not any time soon. Immediately after it happened, his powers returned for a moment, too, and I don't know if they've gone away again or if they're still unlocked to him."

"Doesn't matter," Stan said with a shake of his head. "Either way, he clearly doesn't have much of his power, otherwise he would'a healed himself by now, wouldn't ya say?"

Ford nodded in agreement. "Yes, of course. I…. I'll try not to worry about that."

"Good, cuz there's plenty else to be worried about, like how he's gonna react to your knucklehead actions. At the very least, I think it's best he doesn't see you until the kids and I have had a chance to talk to 'im." Stan paused before clarifying: "I'm gonna take him up to the attic with the kids; best he doesn't wake up down here." Ford opened his mouth to speak, but Stan quickly said "I'll make sure to be there when he wakes up," cutting off Ford's protests.

Ford nodded and stood back as Stanley picked Bill up off the table he'd been laid on and began to carry both him and the clear bag for medication towards the elevator.

Ford watched them go before turning to clean up the mess left from the initial incident and subsequent treatment.

… **.**

 _Bill opened his eye, blinking slowly and groggily for a few moments before looking up. All he could see in every direction was pink fluffy clouds and glitter, as if he'd fallen into one of Mabel's dreams. For a second he thought that maybe he had, being a Dream Demon and all, but upon noticing the large, pink, fleshy being in front of him, he realized that such wasn't the case. He glanced down at himself, noting the yellow triangular form, before looking to The Axolotl once more._

" _Hey Axie, good to see ya. Have you finally given up on this ridiculous redemption notion? Or are you going to shove me back into that pathetic and now rather_ _ **damaged**_ _body?"_

 _The Axolotl avoided answering the question. "I didn't want you to get hurt: In the mortal world, sometimes things just happen. You know that, Bill." It sounded solemn._

 _Bill scoffed. "Hell yeah I do, and I've hated that fact ever since you put me in that stupid body!"_

" _You have been improving though."_

 _Bill straight out laughed. "Oh, you think so? Well, you're wrong! The only reason I_ _ **seem**_ _like I've 'improved' is because I've been treading lightly! I'd like nothing more than to kill Stanford, or at least pull a prank or two on him, but I just_ _ **know**_ _that even if I made a simple little practice joke they'd be furious! I don't want to imagine what actions they'd take against me if I actually_ _ **did**_ _something they didn't like, considering they gouged my eye out for just_ _ **saying**_ _something they didn't agree with!" Bill crossed his arms in annoyance, his entire body turning red and glowing, his eye going black. He tried to calm himself, reminding himself that The Axolotl didn't approve of his temper, and at the moment it was The Axolotl who was in control of his future._

" _If you insist," The Axolotl said, a hint of a smirk in its voice. "Remember, though, that you can't hide anything from me. You may be a master of the mind, but I am a being from the fourth dimension. It is as easy for me to see the future as it is for you to create nightmares."_

" _And yet I_ _ **still**_ _lost an eye." Bill huffed. "You know that if you send me back, now that I have my powers again, the first thing I'll do is kill Stanford. The rest of them too, probably. Even Shooting Star. Unless you want that to happen, I'd suggest you call this little experiment of yours a failure and let me go."_

" _You'll do no such thing, Cipher. Largely because you don't have your powers back. The only reason they came back at all was because I slipped up for a moment; your power return was entirely temporary. Besides, the use of your powers ultimately did more harm than good. That's usually how the story goes with you."_

 _Bill's eye flashed red before he forced himself to remain outwardly neutral. He settled for a dramatic eye roll. "I figured you'd say something like that. Are you at least going to fix my eye, oh benevolent creature of creation?" Bill asked somewhat sarcastically._

 _The Axolotl hesitated. "Well…. No…."_

 _This time Bill turned red and stayed that way. "_ _ **WHAT?! Why**_ _ **not?!**_ _I thought you were supposed to be the oh-so-good Axolotl! You_ _ **could**_ _fix it if you wanted to, I know you could!"_

" _I really can't," The Axolotl countered. "The future wouldn't be very bright if I did that."_

" _ **MY**_ _future is already looking half black!" Bill yelled, red lightning sparking through the pink clouds and scarlet flames springing up on the puffs as if they were shrubbery. With a swipe of The Axolotl's tale, the flames dispersed._

" _Now, Bill, don't be like that."_

" _I'm gonna kill you."_

" _Besides, just what do you think I am? A god?"_

" _To those pathetic humans we're_ _ **both**_ _gods."_

 _The Axolotl tilted its head in confusion_ _, looking very much like a smug puppy._ _"Is that so? And am I_ _ **your**_ _god, Bill?" Bill glared before scoffing at the very_ _notion_ _of such a thing. "You don't have to take being human so far as to start believing I'm a god, William. And don't worry so much_ _!_ _Sure things will be tough for a while, but it'll get better. You'll see."_

 _"I'll see_ _ **less**_ _now that I'm_ _ **down an eye**_ _."_

 _"You've always had one eye. Shouldn't make too much of a difference now."_

 _Pissed about the being's comment, Bill decided to once again set fire to the clouds in defiance. The Axolotl huffed in minor annoyance, swiping its tail in a large, sweeping arc once more, blowing out the fires._

 _The Axolotl sighed, frustrated by Bill's antics. "You know what Bill?" It paused, and Bill shrunk back just a tad, knowing that some punishment was likely about to be inflicted upon him. What was it going to do now? Take away his advanced healing? Bill couldn't help but shudder at the notion._

 _Instead, the ever benevolent Axolotl relaxed and smirked. "How about we make a deal?"_

 _Bill instantly perked up, excited by the prospect, but his excitement quickly faded when he remembered that The Axolotl was one of the few beings who always seemed to be able to twist his own deals around and make them work against him. Usually Bill was the one who turned the words around backwards…. It was enough to give Bill pause, and_ _ **almost**_ _enough to make him decline. But, he_ _ **did**_ _love making deals, and if anything, this was his second chance at getting the upper hand over The Axolotl._

" _Okay Fishie, I'll bite. Just what did you have in mind?"_

 _The Axolotl hummed as if in contemplation before saying "I'll give you back_ _ **some**_ _of your powers. Not all, for multiple reasons, not least of which is that you'd likely kill yourself, since your human body can hardly handle such power."_

 _Bill nodded. "Yup, got it, don't overuse powers. So what else? What powers do I get back? And most importantly, what do you want for them?"_

" _I'm getting there," The Axolotl assured. "Always so impatient…."_

 _Bill rolled his eye and crossed his arms like a teenage girl being chastised by her mother._ _ **'I wouldn't be so impatient if you weren't so slow,'**_ _he thought._

" _I'll give you back partial sight, to compensate for the lost eye. Like before, you'll be able to see through the eyes of items which represent you, through birch trees and through depictions of yourself. The exception is that you will only be able to look through them one at a time, and not for very long. Your body isn't strong enough to manage peeking through other locations for very long. You also won't be able to see through anything outside of Gravity Falls. Distance means difficulty, after all." Bill huffed in annoyance. "Keep in mind that I'm setting these limitations for your own benefit, Bill Cipher."_

 _Bill met The Axolotl's gaze and, determining that perhaps the limitations_ _ **were**_ _reasonable, he nodded in consent. "What else?"_

" _I refuse to give you any powers which you might use to attack or harm anyone, but I think it might be time I let you defend yourself. No doubt the Pines have already altered their rules non-verbally to accommodate for your self-protection."_

 _Bill nodded again. "Yeah, fine, whatever. What else?"_

 _The Axolotl shook its head. "That's all. More will return when I deem the time right. And as for your side of the agreement, I require only one thing."_

 _Bill glared. "And what's that?"_

" _You have to try to forgive Stanford Pines."_

 _Bill blinked in surprise. "I only have to_ _ **try**_ _to forgive him? You're not even demanding that I forgive him here and now or anything? Even if I don't forgive him_ _ **ever**_ _, I only have to_ _ **try**_ _?" Bill asked skeptically._

 _The Axolotl nodded. "I'm trusting you to hold up your end of the deal." Bill scoffed: The Axolotl ignored him. "It is always rather hard to tell with these sorts of things if the opposite party is abiding by the agreement, especially since I don't invade people's minds as you do."_

' _ **This is too easy,'**_ _Bill thought not cockily, but truly skeptically._ _ **'What's the catch? Last time I made a deal with The Axolotl it backfired big time! Is Axie really so trusting and naïve? I know I'll never forgive ol' Six Fingers for this one, but as long as I just TELL The Axolotl that I will, it'll give me back partial omnipotence and enough magic to defend myself with?'**_ _Bill considered for a moment longer before sticking out his hand, the appendage coated in blue flames._ _ **'Even wary, this deal is too good to pass up without a solid reason.'**_

" _You've got yourself a deal, Axie." The Axolotl stretched the tip of its pointy tail forward and Bill grasped it in his hand; both of them were engulfed in blue flames._

 _The Axolotl chuckled as they sealed the deal, and Bill tried to mask his nervousness. Little did he know, the deal they'd just made had set him more firmly than ever down the path The Axolotl had in mind for him. While it was true that The Axolotl_ _couldn't, or rather_ _ **wouldn't**_ _, look into the private minds of others, it_ _ **could**_ _see the future, and in that way it knew perfectly well whether or not Bill would follow through on his end of the agreement._

 _Bill pulled his hand back. "You're still making a mistake," Bill promised. As far as Bill was concerned, he should just be allowed to go his own way, without The Axolotl's pesky interference._

 _"I know," The Axolotl replied quietly, surprising Bill. "But sometimes the only decisions left to us are all bad ones. If it were up to me, you would have agreed to be my partner all those years ago instead of running off to the Nightmare Realm. Disorder is necessary, and is your nature, but working together we could have caused as little pain as possible, to the world and to you alike."_

 _Bill shrugged slightly and looked away. "Yeah, maybe. But like you said, it's in my nature. And by that I mean that hanging out with you is no fun."_

 _The Axolotl shook its head. "You always have to learn things the hard way." It sighed. "Brace yourself; it's time for you to go back."_

 _Bill cringed, knowing exactly what he was preparing for but also knowing that no amount of preparation could ever ready him for the pain he was about to be cast back into._

 _"I hate you," Bill said just before he disappeared in a flash of yellow light._

 _"…. I know," The Axolotl breathed, knowing full well that Bill couldn't hear, "but_ _ **I**_ _don't hate_ _ **you**_ _."_

 **...**

Once again, Bill opened his single eye, this time his vision filled with the woodworking of the ceiling in the attic of the Shack. He blinked groggily a few times before the pain hit him, and he screamed.

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed, I think. XD**

 **Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, Buy Gold, BYE!**


	43. Chapter 41: As It Stands

**Chapter 41: As It Stands**

 **A/N: Here's a Memorial Day update.**

 **It's funny: A lot of people seem to really like my take on The Axolotl. Wanna know something interesting? In this story The Axolotl pretty much represents** _ **me**_ **, the Author. Hahaha. I theorize that in Canon, The Axolotl represents Alex, the creator who knows the future, who knows what's going to happen next, and knows everything about everyone. In **_**this**_ **story, The Axolotl chooses what happens next, chose what body Bill came back into, chooses when and how he gets powers back…. Just like me! Because** _ **I'm**_ **technically the one deciding all of those things. So when The Axolotl says things along the lines of "yeah I let horrible things happen to you Bill, but I really don't hate you, in fact I like you quite a lot," that's my writer's perspective showing through. I also call The Axolotl an "it" in this story because I consider it to be gender-fluid depending on the Author it represents. The Canon Axolotl, for example, would be male since it represents Alex Hirsch, but in** _ **this**_ **story it's female, since it represents me. ^^**

 **Well, now then, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

Mabel, Dipper, and Stanley all started at the sudden piercing scream. Two hours ago they'd decreased the flow of the morphine drip that had been set up because Bill had been very unresponsive for far too long, by Stanford's calculations. Now that he was awake and screaming though, Stan figured that maybe they should have kept the drip going steady. He reached over and turned the drip up, Bill writhing and biting down on his bottom lip to keep from screaming again, waiting for the medication to spread through his body and ease the pain.

Mabel was holding Bill's left hand tightly, leaning over the bed and peering at him intently. "Bill, are you okay?"

Bill forced his one still intact eye open and glared at her, still biting his lip to manage the pain, and Mabel realized that, well, no, of course he wasn't _okay_.

Bill forced himself to stop biting his lip as the medicine spread and the pain decreased in slow incriminates.

"Sorry, Bill," Dipper spoke up from the right side of Bill's bed. "We'd stopped giving you so much morphine because we thought it was keeping you too deeply unconscious. It's been like sixteen hours, after all... Why were you out for so long, and then awake so suddenly?" Dipper had already figured that, considering who the patient was, it had to be some supernatural explanation.

" _I was out for a stroll,_ " Bill said sarcastically through a sharp hiss of pain, though the statement had some truth to it. "The Axolotl thought it was time we had a little chit-chat. Only up side to that whole conversation was waiting longer before coming back to _this_." Bill motioned weakly to the room around him, as if the single motion could sum up everything he was experiencing while in his human form. "That useless lizard didn't even tell me how to get my powers back! Completely inept!" Bill finally managed to relax back into the bed he was laying on and stopped squirming in discomfort as the morphine began to take its full effect. "Though to be fair, it _did_ give me back _some_ of my powers. More on that later." Bill's left eye drooped, but he didn't want to go back to sleep now, so he forced it to stay open and instead examined his surroundings for the first time.

He had been laid down on an air mattress in the attic, he noticed, in the very room that Dipper and Mabel slept in. A bag of clear liquid had been hung on a nail in the wall to his upper left and the solution was being slowly fed into his blood stream via a needle in his left arm. Bill grimaced at the sight of the needle stuck under his skin, but he figured that it was better than the alternative, which was no steady morphine drip to ease the pain.

Dipper had a confused and slightly worried look on his face, no doubt due to the comment Bill had made about getting some of his powers back, but otherwise he looked largely the same as the other two: Concerned for his wellbeing.

Having finished observing his surroundings, Bill figured it was time to assess the more internal situation. He gulped, his tongue dry, before slowly raising his right hand toward his face. The other three in the room watched intently in silence, and he ignored their presence.

Even touching the bandages over his right eye socket with the force of a butterfly's wing-beat caused an uncomfortable pressure, but with the morphine drip masking the pain it didn't necessarily hurt. Bill could almost feel as if his eye was still there, moving beneath the cloth, tingling in phantom pains, but at the same time he was hyper aware of the emptiness, of the soft and damp cloth that was lightly placed where his eye used to be. Bill stared down at the yellow blankets on the bed for a moment, glaring at them, trying to truly process everything that had happened, but it all still just felt so _disconnected_. He'd lost eyes before, but they always grew back. Until now, that is. Now that it was truly, irrevocably gone, he found he just couldn't process it. He opted, then, for waiting a few moments more and hoping that it would hit him at some point, and with some amount of force less than a freight train.

Bill looked up to see not only Mabel with tears in her eyes, but the others as well, the boys each quickly trying to wipe away the moistness in their eyes without him noticing. Even if he was still waiting for the reality of the situation to hit, it was apparent that it had already met the other three occupants in the room.

Mabel squeezed Bill's hand again. "It... It'll be..." She stopped, changed her mind, and instead said: "I'm sorry, Bill. I'm so, _so_ sorry." She looked down, tears dripping off her face and turning the blankets darker where they met the moisture. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, letting go of the now startled Bill's hand. "It's all my fault! _I'm_ the one who insisted you and Ford work together down in the lab! I was supposed to protect you!" She sobbed harder.

Bill hesitated in responding. Was it really her fault, even partially? Bill searched himself and found that none of his anger was directed to the girl sobbing her eyes out…. Well, the girl crying…. In front of him. He wasn't angry at her _yet_ , anyway. At the moment everything, including his anger and emotions, just felt _numb_ ….

"It's not your fault Shooting Star," Bill said. "It's your idiot Grunkle's fault, and for once I don't mean you Stanley," Bill said with a smirk, looking up at Stan. Stan pretended to be offended, and Mabel laughed a little, despite her tears and the severity of the situation.

Bill smiled at her before his features grew more serious and dark. "It is Stanford's fault though. I think something will have to be done about him."

The others nodded in agreement. "Don't worry Bill, we're all mad at him," Dipper assured. "Though he really looked like he regretted hurting you when I last saw him. Either way, we're going to make sure he learns his lesson, starting with restricting him from using the lab until further notice."

Bill frowned, clearly unimpressed. "That's not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more of gouging out one of _his_ eyes with a fork. 'An eye for an eye,' don't they say?"

The other three would have looked surprised, if that hadn't been exactly what they'd expected.

"This ain't no Sharia Law type biz and we ain't turnin' this into a revenge plot," Stan argued. "We don' want ya to worry 'bout Stanford. We'll take care of him, alright?"

Bill considered protesting, but quickly decided that it was best just to play along as exhaustion began to win out in the battle over his eyelid. The morphine _did_ effect his capability of staying awake, and he figured that sleeping for a few minutes longer might do him some good. He waited only long enough to scarf down some ice cream Mabel insisted he eat before promptly falling back asleep.

The other three present slowly and quietly made their way from the room, shutting the door behind them.

"He acted as if nothing was really too wrong," Dipper commented.

Mabel nodded in agreement. "Does he even know how bad he looks?" Truly, Bill hadn't seen himself yet. To the others, he looked deathly pale; deep dark purple bags were under his left eye, and with the right side of his face so heavily bandaged he resembled a half-dead mummy. The kids didn't even know how bad it was, since Stan always took it upon himself to clean and re-dress the wound whenever the bandages needed replacing.

Bill had also lost weight, yet again, a phenomenon that Ford attributed to the clearly advanced healing that was taking place. By Ford's estimations, if the healing process kept up at the current speed it was going, the damage done to the back of the eye socket would be as healed as it could possibly get within the next two days. Of course, that would also leave Bill at a mere thirty pounds, twenty under what would be a healthy weight for him, so Ford figured that at some point his healing rate would slow down, or else he'd be at risk of dying from malnourishment, despite the nutrients constantly streaming in from the IV.

"I think," Stan said quietly, "he hasn't really processed what's happen yet. Still in shock, I'd say." The children took his words of wisdom to heart and instantly became even more concerned.

"What do you think will happen when he finally realized just how bad it is?" Dipper asked, worried.

Stan shrugged. "Can't say, kiddo. Up to him, I guess. He's Bill Cipher, so there's really no tellin'. He might not ever think about it, just push it to the back of his mind and not worry about it. Since he's seen so much in his long years, maybe he just doesn't even care too much 'bout what happens to his human body, 'specially since he probably hopes he'll be able to leave it soon."

"Or," Mabel wondered, "he might never trust us again?"

Stan looked at her, and found that he, for once, couldn't lie. "Maybe," he consented, "we'll just have to wait and see, Pumpkin."

Mabel nodded and slowly followed her Grunkle and brother down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Ford was waiting there. He'd been banned from the lab (a punishment he'd agreed to surprisingly quickly: He really didn't want to be there right now, at the site of where _it_ happened), and it was currently only ten in the morning, and the Shack was closed…. In total, he had nothing better to do than sit in the kitchen and feel regret over what he'd done while waiting to hear how Bill was doing.

Mabel looked up as she entered the kitchen and, upon seeing her Grunkle Ford sitting there, she quickly averted her eyes and walked over to the sink. She set Bill's empty ice cream bowl down and departed again, making a B-line to the living room and turning on the TV. Dipper hesitated in the doorway and watched as his sister silently entered and exited the kitchen. As she left the room again, he looked at his Grunkle Ford, his mentor, and silently turned around to follow her.

"Ain't much that can shut those two up, I find," Stan commented as he sat down at the table next to his brother. "Especially the pink one: She just about _never_ shuts up. I've only ever seen her quiet this long when she was mad at _me_ , givin' the silent treatment after I almost killed her pig." Stan looked at his brother. "I think they're both a touch madder at you than even _that_. I honestly can't say when they'll talk to ya again."

Ford rested his head in his hands. "And you?" He asked, his words muffled by two six-fingered hands.

Stan shrugged. "You made a mistake, Sixer. I've made my fair share…. Though maybe not quite as bad as this one could potentially end up being, since it is a _demon_ you attacked and all…. Point is, yeah I'm mad, but I've spent more years than I'd like to count bein' mad at you, so I figure it's best to just forgive you and get on with it. The kids though, I think they reserve the right to be royally pissed off. You did hurt their friend, pet, thing…." Stan trailed off, not exactly sure of how one should go about defining the relationships Bill Cipher tended to have.

Ford looked to his brother. "My great niece and nephew, friends with Bill Cipher…." He laughed humorlessly. "There was a time I'd be ecstatic, back when I myself called Bill _'friend'_. There was also a time I'd be furious at the thought, not to mention terrified. Now I just don't know what to think."

"None of us know how this is gonna play out. I get the feelin' that the Dorito himself doesn't have a clue. His best guess if you asked him right now would probably be that he dies, considering what happened yesterday."

Ford sighed. "As it stands currently, he'll at least be bedridden for a while, if his own powers don't work against him and starve him to death in the effort of healing him."

Stan grimaced at the honesty in those words and nodded mutely.

Ford's brow creaced and he stood. "I'm going down to the lab," Ford announced quietly.

"You know you ain't supposed to," Stan said, shaking his head. "It hasn't even been a day an' _already_ you're ending your own punishment?"

"Life doesn't stop for anyone, and I've got work to do. I'm a grown man, I can do what I want."

Stan sighed deeply. "The kids'll be upset. If you can live with that, then go on ahead."

Ford hesitated only a moment before silently leaving the kitchen. He passed through the living room on his way to the gift shop, the children watching as he went. They silently stood and followed him to the other room. None of them spoke as Stanford typed the code into the vending machine and disappeared, down into the underground lab.

Dipper placed a reassuring hand on his sister's shoulder when he noticed that she was crying angry, silent tears.

"He…. Probably has his reasons," Dipper tried gently.

Mabel remained silent, furiously scrubbing her tears away. They returned to watching TV, neither of them even noticing what was on the screen.

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed; reviews appreciated! (I'm positively addicted to them!** ***^^*** **)**

 **And happy Memorial Day, if you celebrate it. I personally have known many military folk, both still living and deceased, so I celebrate it, at least.**


	44. Chapter 42: Understanding

**Chapter 42: Understanding**

 **A/N: A couple things you need to know:**

 **First off, thanks to all my reviewers, guest and logged-in alike! To the guests, I would like very much to clear up any confusion you have and to answer any and all of your questions and/or discuss the story with you guys, so if ever you want to talk, feel free to make an account and contact me via PMs! Accounts are free and non-binding. ;)**

 **Second, I have a lot of people who seem worried that I might just stop writing the story one day and never continue: To that, I say please don't be concerned! I'm not planning on stopping with this tory any time soon, even if updates are few and far in-between for a while. I tend to do several-month-long-mood-swings as a writer, where for a couple months I might write a chapter every single day, if not more, and then I might go a few months without writing much at all. Typically, winter is my "Writing Fever" season, so-to-speak. ^^**

 **Also, I want to wish a happy late-14** **th** **-birthday to one of my readers, who I shall refer to only as "E". Her birthday was on July 4** **th** **... Happy Birthday Girl!**

 **( ^^) _** **旦** **~~(B-Day Cake!)**

 **Alright, I'm done talking now. Time for the long-anticipated next chapter! Enjoy!**

Bill was in and out of consciousness several times throughout the day, in what Ford described was a "pendulating near-comatose state". In other words, his body was swinging rather rapidly between nearly shutting down entirely and focusing on maintaining itself. He healed his injuries with such ferocity that his body would near self-destruction before swinging around and focus on the upkeep of its usual functions, like _breathing_ and such.

Dipper had attempted to distract his sister with promises of fun adventures, even going as far as to begrudgingly offer to let her give him a makeover, but, in the end, she opted to alternate between sitting in front of the TV, pacing around outside with Waddles waddling around behind her, and sitting by Bill's side as he recovered. By his side was where both she and her brother were when they heard a faint knock on the door. They turned and were surprised to see their own Grunkle Ford standing in the doorway, expression unreadable, light glinting off his glasses.

Mabel abruptly turned back to looking at Bill, ignoring her Grunkle's presence. Dipper glanced at his sister before silently rising and following Ford out into the hall.

Dipper refused to be the first one to speak, instead waiting until his Grunkle explained himself. Ford sighed and reached into his inner coat pocket, pulling out three rectangular objects wrapped in aluminum foil, each approximately the size of a bar of soap. For a second, that's what Dipper thought they were before rejecting the idea.

Ford tossed them to Dipper, who fumbled with them before eventually managing to settle all three safely in his cupped hands. Dipper looked up at his Grunkle with a questioning look on his face.

"I call them Crackers ***** ," Ford explained. "They're entirely tasteless and odorless, and have the same texture as eating blocks of dry Tofu, but they're packed to the brim with nutrients, protein, carbs and vitamins." Ford met Dipper's gaze, hoping that his Great Nephew would see purely good intentions in him. "I... Thought they might help Bill pull through. He'll still need sugar, and don't feed him more than three of these a day, nor more than one within a three-hour time-frame, until I know the extent of the effects they'll have on him. All-in-all, I really think they can help. I know Bill's a picky eater, so if he has trouble swallowing them down, it should be perfectly okay to serve one crumbled into a bowl of ice cream, or let him wash it down with milk or something."

Dipper seemed to consider his Grunkle's words before silently entering his and Mabel's (and what Ford supposed was also now Bill's) room with the three Crackers still in hand, shutting the door behind him. Ford waited for a moment outside the shut door before sighing and moving to go back down stairs. He paused when he heard the door open and shut once more behind him, turning to see Dipper approaching him. Dipper motioned for him to follow.

"Let's talk downstairs. I don't want to run the possibility of Bill overhearing us."

"Or Mabel?" Ford asked.

Dipper shook his head. "No, she's not a problem. I'll explain in a second." Ford took his word for it and continued to follow Dipper downstairs and, furthermore, down to the basement, specifically to the second sublevel, Ford's study. Ford was thankful that Dipper didn't take them all the way down to the lab...

"Bill mentioned gaining some more limited powers, and since he hasn't gotten to explain them yet, I didn't want to talk in the kitchen and risk him eavesdropping. I wouldn't put it past him: He's still Bill Cipher, right?"

Ford hummed. "Sometimes I wonder about that."

"I know _exactly_ what you mean. He sure is _different_ than he used to seem. Mabel and I have chalked it up to him having human emotions and being more vulnerable than ever before. That makes sense, right? There's a saying that I heard in a Sci-Fi show I watched once, and I'm not afraid to share it with you because I know you like the same nerdy stuff I do Grunkle Ford."

Ford couldn't help but smile at this. "Nerds always are the smartest people," he said quietly in consent.

Dipper nodded and continued. "It went something along the lines of _'you can live with a person for forty years. Share his meals and talk about every subject with him, and then tie him up and hold him over a volcano. And on that day is when you finally meet him_ _ ****.**_ _'_ Therefore, I think it makes sense that when given a whole new range of emotions and vulnerabilities, Bill would be different than he's ever been before." Dipper paused, and Ford was struck silent by the intellect behind Dipper's words.

With a scowl Dipper continued. "Then again, he was also super nice to you when you were friends a long time ago, right? So he might be acting human and placid to gain our trust."

Ford's eyes widened. "I... Didn't know you still had thoughts like that, Dipper. I... Thought you really were beginning to trust him."

"I _am_ , Grunkle Ford." Stanford looked generally confused.

Dipper sighed. "I know that there's a possibility that he's tricking us, but that doesn't mean I can just _not_ go along with it. As a human, I see it as kind of part of the gig that I give him a chance. Mabel knows it too, in case you're wondering. She isn't dumb; you know that. She's better with people than any of us. She's still trying to show him mercy and kindness because she believes in his ability to change. Believing he can change doesn't mean ignoring the fact that he might not, it just means being brave enough to work past it."

Ford's eyes widened impossibly wider, to the point of comical astonishment. "When did you get so wise? I mean, you were always smart, Dipper, but honestly..."

Dipper smiled at him for the first time since the incident down in the lab. "I think it was somewhere between saving your life from an alien sphere and dealing with the aftermath of saving the world from an apocalypse."

"And why are you telling me all of this? I... was under the impression that you were giving me the silent treatment." Ford frowned in confusion. What exactly was Dipper getting at?

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted you to know that Mabel and I are, yes, still kinda mad at you, but we understand that it was an accident. Mabel's mostly mad that you were going to slap him: If you were having problems with Bill, you should have come and gotten us so we could deal with it together, as family, instead of resorting to violence, but we know you hadn't meant to hurt him so badly." Dipper fiddled absentmindedly with the edge of a piece of paper on one of Ford's desks in his study. "I just want to let you know that Mabel and I are going to pretend to be really, really mad at you, but we don't mean it. We're only slightly peeved."

Ford was even more confused now than he had been before. "But... Then why are you going to pretend to be madder than you really are?" Before Dipper could respond, a look of half-understanding crossed Ford's face. "Oh. It's because of Bill, isn't it?"

Dipper nodded. "You know how Bill is. There was a time I'd say you know him better than any of us, but I'm not sure that's true anymore. The point is, while to the rest of us there are no sides in this conflict, and it was just an accident, to Bill it's an entirely different matter. To him we're either on his side, or we're on your side. Unless we let him know beyond the shadow of a doubt that we're not against him, he won't trust us. So we have to pretend to be almost as mad at you as he is. Give it some time and we'll start trying to convince him that it was just an accident and he should forgive you, but for now we just have to let him know that we're with him."

Dipper paused. "Heck, maybe he'll just shrug this whole incident off and push it to the back of his mind." Dipper smirked. "Heh, wouldn't that be really convenient?" Ford silently nodded in agreement. Dipper's smile faded.

"Unfortunately though, if I know Bill at all, then I think he's going to make a big deal out of this, so we need to be on his side until we can convince him that there are no sides. Make sense?"

Ford nodded.

"And... You're okay with that, right?" Dipper asked, clearly a little concerned for his Grunkle Ford. "I just want you to know that we aren't really against you, and I want to make sure you'll be okay with all of this."

Ford quickly dismissed his worry with the wave of a six-fingered hand. "Of course, of course. I understand entirely! Besides, it's all my fault this mess happened to begin with. The _least_ I could do is put up with you and Mabel pretending to be mad at me. I'm just relieved to hear that you aren't really as mad as I thought. Who exactly came up this little scheme? Don't tell me it was Stanley's idea..."

Dipper shook his head. "No, it was all Mabel. Like I said, she really does understand people. And demons too, I guess." Dipper and Ford scoffed, not exactly sure that they could yet describe Bill as a 'person,' but also not entirely sure that they _couldn't..._

"I used to doubt that my sister knew how dangerous Bill could be," Dipper continued after a moment, "back when he first got here. But a few days ago she finally explained to me what I just told you: She understands that if she acts too afraid of him and allows herself to be paranoid, then the chances of helping him change go way down. She even told me that it was okay for me to be paranoid. She just asked me to not let it show, especially in front of Bill. For now, since he's being supervised twenty-four seven, I think he can't do much of anything to hurt any of us anyway."

Ford nodded in agreement and understanding. "You two really are great kids. You've handled this whole situation with Bill better than I have!"

Dipper shook his head. "It's understandable Grunkle Ford. You and Bill have history that makes trusting him that much harder for you. And it's too early to say who's right: Bill could end up betraying us again and you'll have been right all along."

"If it counts for anything, I really hope that doesn't happen. I'm actually starting to hope that you kids can change him. If anyone can do it you can," Ford said with a smile.

"We can," Dipper corrected. "All of us. We can't do it without you or Grunkle Stan. It takes more than just Mabel and me." Dipper stood and made his way to the elevator. "I should head back up before Bill asks Mabel where I'm at. He likes it when Mabel and I are always there when he's awake, probably because he knows that with the two of us there you won't be able to hurt him again."

Ford winced slightly, but nodded in understanding.

"Oh, and Mabel wanted me to tell you thanks for the Crackers, and that we aren't mad you used the lab, since it was for a good cause. She'll act mad, but she isn't."

"I thought you wanted to avoid conversations like that in front of Bill," Ford commented.

"Well, she didn't actually _say_ that she was thankful for the Crackers, or that she wasn't mad, but I could tell she wanted me to thank you. We are twins, after all. I can tell what runs through her head sometimes without her having to actually say anything."

Ford smiled fondly. "I know what you mean. Stanley and I used to be the same way. After our open-ocean adventures over the last nine months, I actually like to think that we're back to a similar level of connection as we used to have."

"I'm glad," Dipper said as he and Ford stepped into the elevator and watched the doors slide closed.

Once back in the Shack, Ford knew Dipper and Mabel would give him the cold shoulder, but he felt infinitely better knowing that they weren't really too mad at him.

Now if only he could quell the deep-seeded, burning anger he held against himself...

 ***** **Crackers:** **A cookie and honorable mention to whoever knows what this is referencing!**

 ****** **Quote:** **Super top-notch kudos and a freakin' trophy to anyone who knows where this quote came from** _ **without looking it up!**_ **(I already gave a hint: Sci-Fi show.) -I mean, I can't tell if you look it up or not, but I'ma trust you guys to be honest. At least if you break my trust, I'll never know, and therefore won't be damaged by your betrayal. XD You're actually the one who'll have to live with it, no matter how insignificant the lie. A lot of small lies pile up, don't they? I like to think so. But they probably don't. ^^;**

 **'Till next time! AND REMEMBER! Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, Buy Gold, BYE!**


	45. Chapter 43: The Second

**Chapter 43: The Second**

 **A/N: Look! A large-sized chapter for you guys! Hurray!**

 **I put a piece of art for this chapter up on DeviantArt. It's just a little something I whipped up: Feel free to go take a look at it if you want the "full experience" of this chapter. My DeviantArt username is the same as it is here on FF (3DPhantom) and the title of the piece of art I made specifically for this chapter is the same as the title of this chapter (The Second). I'm more of a writer than I am an artist, much more... But, none-the-less, I hope someone will like the piece well enough. XD**

 **No one guessed the previous chapter's references, though there were some great attempts made! Thanks to everyone who submitted a guess! Here are the answers:**

 **Crackers** **are a reference to a thing in the newest season of "Attack on Titan". It's a popular anime that you may or may not have heard of before.**

 **The Quote** **was from a Sci-Fi show called "Firefly". It's been completed for many years now, but it's still one of the most popular Sci-Fi shows out there. I heard some good guesses for this: It was a hard one to get write, especially for younger people. I highly recommend the show to anyone over the age of fourteen-or-so. It was still available for watching on Netflix, last time I checked. ^^**

 **Also, I re-wrote parts of this chapter about a day after I first published it. Just letting you know, in case you were one of the people who read it within that first sixteen-or-so hours.**

 **Alright now, on to the story! I hope you all enjoy!**

… **. Thursday, June 19** **th** **, 2014 …. 1:02 AM ….**

The clocks in the Shack all ticked in quiet dis-unison, each one a tad off the next, creating a cascade of clicking from gears that echoed through the dead of night.

Dipper and Mabel each lay quietly in their beds, slight snores and sighs lofting through the attic. And a few mere meters away lay Bill Cipher, curled up tightly on his air mattress. He had yet to notice, but while he slept Mabel had transferred nearly all of her stuffed animals onto his bed, surrounding him in their fluffiness. She was currently clinging to her pig as she slept, since her fluffy objects had been displaced from their usual arrangement. If anyone asked, Mabel would blame eighty percent of the snoring coming from her bed on the pig, but she'd always been a much heavier snorer than her twin brother. Dipper theorized that it came as a side-effect of always having sprinkles up her nose.

Bill squirmed uncomfortably in his sleep: The previous rests he'd had following "the incident" had been dreamless and deep, aside from the one elongated "trip" he'd taken to see The Axolotl that gave him some beneficial time out-of-body. With the use of Ford's newest invention (which he had rather adamantly refused to eat until the point at which Mabel was reduced to tears) Bill was finally beginning to feel stable. Every time he was awake he wasn't left trembling as his muscles ached and his body over-worked at trying to heal him, his shocked systems leaving him shivering. He was recovering, at last, where before he had felt more as if he was slowly deteriorating into an unsustainable state.

The only down side to the fact that he was now on the road to recovery was the dreams: Before he had been so exhausted and weak that in his sleep he couldn't muster a single thought. Now, though, his mind was whirring with fears and imagery...

 _ **'Ironic,'**_ _Bill thought,_ _ **'that as a Dream Demon I now hate sleeping more than anything.'**_ _He groaned as the familiar but distorted form of his own personal Dreamscape came into focus. Before, when he was still the triangular menace he loved to be, he didn't have a personal Dreamscape. He existed in the Mindscape itself, during those days, and was free to do as he pleased. One thing Bill had learnt about having a human body was that not only did he gain a personal Dreamscape, but he didn't have full control over it._

 _When he first interacted with the children, Stanley had told them, specifically Dipper, that in Stan's own mind he could do anything he pleased. That was only partially true. As a Dream Demon, Bill was well aware of, but had never had first-hand experience with, the subconscious._

 _In those days of a summer past, Stan's mind had featured a dark and worn theme: A broken swing set from his past, a gray-scale color scheme, broken and deteriorating landscape, the Mystery Shack floating on an island, isolated and alone... These were things that Stanley could influence, but not change altogether within his own mind and dreams._

 _He could try to add in bright colors, but shadows would always cling to the edges, and any color not in focus would be dull. He could picture blowing up that old rickety swing set, but once the rubble settled it would always still be there. The reason was simple: Those were elements which were deeply rooted, subconscious, a part of Stanley Pines' "self". Possessing a subconscious which is beyond complete control and influence is a large factor in what makes one human. Or alive, for that matter. Those who possessed a soul..._

 _Needless then to say, as a Dream Demon, Bill had been in complete control of his own mind in every way. Sure, he let his anger get the best of him at times, but not involuntarily. If he'd wanted to limit himself to no outward emotions whatsoever he easily could have done so. He feared nothing which he didn't want to fear, and cast even unwanted memories so deeply into himself that they were irrelevant._

 _The same could not be said of him in his human form. In fact, since he was still a Dream Demon but also a being trapped in a human mind, his dreams thus-far had been exclusively nightmares, and rather far beyond his control. Of all the types of dreams to be had, nightmares were, after all, the most uncontrollable._

 _Bill was facing that issue yet again as he groaned and crossed his arms, raising his right hand to rest against his face in a motion of_ _ **'why-does-this-have-to-happen-to-me?'**_ _His features became confused as a warm stickiness coated his fingers and he slowly drew his hand away from him._

 _At first he was confused, but very soon a look of annoyance crossed his features._ _ **'So even in the Dreamscape I now have to put up with being one eye down?'**_ _He thought to himself. He focused on the blood upon his hand, trying to will it away, a blue glow tinting his fingers. But alas, as he let the blue energy fade once more, the blood still remained, a sticky red coat on his finger-tips._ _ **'Damn feeble, pathetic human subconscious.'**_

 _ **"Yeah, no wonder humans are so out-of-control with their emotions. They lack all sense of self-mastery,"**_ _a voice said from behind Bill. A very familiar, high-pitched and ethereal voice, to be precise._

 _Bill turned around and came face-to-face with none other than himself, in his floating yellow triangular glory._ _ **"Oh good, it's me,"**_ _Bill said, crossing his arms, not caring that his still-bloodied fingertips smeared scarlet stains across his yellow sweater._

 _The triangular Bill snapped and pointed at him._ _ **"Bingo. I've come to give me my usual pathetic human nightmares."**_

 _ **"How wonderful. My beloved inner demon come to haunt me again,"**_ _Bill said, somehow sounding entirely sarcastic and serious simultaneously. After all, his demon self was the self he loved the most, no matter how much it haunted his newly-created Dreamscape._

 _ **"You know it,"**_ _Triangular Bill said._ _ **"But I'm not really what's haunting us, am I? I've really come to convince me to cut the shocked-human-still-noncomprehending crap out. It's about time we get angry, don't ya think? Start coming up with a plan for revenge?"**_

 _Bill looked unimpressed._ _ **"I've no idea what you're talking about."**_

 _Dorito Bill didn't even bother to respond to that, knowing that it was a poor lie, at best, and a blatant insult to the both of them at worst._

 _In lieu of a verbal response, he simply looked up, past the human form before him. Bill turned around to follow the sightline of his demonic form and saw what he was getting at: In the landscape of his Dreamscape there was a new addition._

 _Ever since becoming human, his Dreamscape had consisted of a few pieces of imagery: A swirling depiction of the rift which had briefly connected the Third Dimension and the Nightmare Realm... a wacky and darkly twisted version of the town as a whole, including the Mystery Shack... a few other sights which were fuzzy and blurred past the point of recognition (those were places Bill knew, but wished he didn't, and therefore had practically_ _ **un**_ _-committed from memory) …. a small section of the Gravity Falls woodland area where a statue of himself rested beneath the tree line, sunken into the dirt and cracking along the edges..._

 _Among the Dreamscape laying before him was a new sight to be seen. In exactly the direction which his Triangular Form was peering off to was a large-standing replication of Stanford's underground laboratory._

 _He looked to his Triangular Form, which peered back with an almost bored and unreadable expression._

 _ **"Fine, I'll get this over with,"**_ _Bill consented. Satisfied, his Triangular Form disappeared, shrinking and stretching into a single point before vanishing, as if he was sucked away through a pin-point sized wormhole, or washed away down a drain._

 _Bill mumbled something under his breath about how pushy and stubborn he was before slowly approaching the newest addition to his Dreamscape. It was the underground lab, jutting up out of the ground and standing as high as the actual ceiling was, if not skewed to appear to be a bit taller than it was in reality. A section of the wall was cut out, allowing one to see straight in. Where in real life the cave was not entirely dissimilar to a large spherical space underground, it now stood as only a partial sphere with a portion cut off. Bill stepped straight into the cave from this aforementioned cut-out and when he turned around, all he could see was the rocky surface of the cave's wall, the open space to the rest of his Dreamscape having vanished upon entry to the lab._

 _ **'An entrapping memory. Fantastic,'**_ _Bill thought to himself sarcastically. There was no avoidance to be had now: He would have to face whatever his demonic self had dreamed up for him._

 _Bill tightened his grip on his forearms and let out a shaky breath, his breath appearing as a white cloud of vapor in the air._

 _ **'It wasn't this cold before...'**_ _He thought to himself._

 _ **'You didn't notice it at the time, but it felt this cold by the end of your encounter here, what with the blood loss and shock and everything.'**_ _Bill flinched slightly as his demonic form's voice sounded in his head, not entirely different from his own inner voice. The only differences at all, in fact, were that his demonic voice appeared more regal and spacious, as he'd always sounded in the old days, and was by far more relaxed. Bill frowned at that realization: His current, more human inner-voice was nervous and anxious and was laced with all sorts of other emotions that he wished he could just will away._

 _ **'I wish you and I were the same again,'**_ _he thought without thinking._

 _His demonic voice laughed cackling, piercing shrieks of elation, but gave no further response._

 _Bill smiled briefly before focusing on the task at hand: Coming to terms with his life's current circumstances._

 _Bill forced his one good eye up from peering at the floor and looked about the lab. It was dimly lit, empty, and damp. He began slowly walking towards the center of the lab, leaving the shadowed edges of the cave behind. As he approached the better lit center, colorful hazy forms began to take shape. By the time he had reached the center, he found himself staring at himself and Ford, sitting down in the lab, chatting about the Nightmare Realm._

 _"…. If the whole dimension was destined to be destroyed, no matter what I did. If I couldn't save anyone else…. I'd just want to save them. It wouldn't be so bad as long as they made it out alive." He heard his past self, saying the same words which a day ago had been spoken by him._

 _And just as it had happened before, a sudden load, high-pitched shrieking interrupted the conversation. Bill, as he watched the memory unfold from the sidelines, couldn't prevent himself from covering his ears as the busted pipe whistled many times louder in his ears than it had in the past. The other two, his past-self and Stanford, didn't seem to notice._

 _Bill could barely make out Ford's explanation of the sound as he picked up a red screwdriver..._ _ **the**_ _red screwdriver... And approached the busted pipe. His past-self trailed along behind him._

 _Bill couldn't help himself; he reached out to grasp his past-self by the shoulder, as if he could pull himself away and prevent the scene which was quickly coming into fruition before him for the second time in so many hours._

 _Instead of coming into physical contact with the representation of his past-self, his hand passed not just through the yellow-sweater-clad shoulder, but_ _ **into**_ _it. He tried to pull back, but his hand refused to retreat._

 _"We should make another portal." The words escaped Bill before he could stop them. Try as he might, he couldn't force his legs to move, to make him step back and away from the distressed old man before him. Even with a sense of dread spreading through him and his face detorting into one of fright, the words continued to flow from him in the same manner and tone as they had the first time._

 _"This time it'll be different! This time..." Bill could only_ _ **wish**_ _that this time would be different from the last... That he could change his mind, tell Ford that they'd talk about it later, if ever... Wished he could flee the room before he was forced to relive what had already happened..._

 _"You won't lose?" Ford asked, frowning. "Yeah, I'm afraid of that."_

 _ **'I do lose,'**_ _Bill thought to himself as the conversation progressed without concern for his inner dialogue._

 _"…. We only have to let a few through! It won't be like opening an entire rift!" Bill tried to jerk his body back_ _ **hard**_ _, but was locked to his spot, completely unable to move. It wouldn't be long now..._

 _"…. Stanford..._ _ **Please...**_ _"_

 _Bill stared, wide-eyed and still in both body and mind as, once again, Ford's hand snapped back, screwdriver still in-hand. The same guttural squashing sound filled the stagnant air, this time deafeningly loud..._

 _Only this time, Bill didn't feel the pain the same as he had the first time. It was numb, in the distance, simple background static..._

 _ **'This time, try payin' attention to what else goes on, alright?'**_ _His demonic form's voice echoed in his mind, and Bill instantly complied. Where the first time he had been focused on the pain and shock of it all, this time he looked with his still-yet-intact left eye up at Ford, who's face had contorted into one of horror and equal surprise to Bill's own._

 _As Bill's body staggered back a bit, Ford jumped forward to catch him. Rage coursed through Bill's systems, but once again, just as the pain, it was faded and less felt than it had been the first time. None-the-less, blue flames sparked to life around the cave and about his body, glowing in his now blood-filled right eye and in the palms of his hands. Ford was thrown backwards while Bill watched intently, taking note of everything that happened. As Ford was thrown backwards, his own body was pushed back and to the ground with an equal and opposite force._

 _He stood, this time pausing only slightly to notice the exact volume of blood which now tainted the floor of the lab, and to observe as the flames began to flicker down to nothingness almost as quickly as they had been spurred to life. His body rushed towards the elevator, an action which was ultimately beyond his control._

 _"Bill! Wait!" Bill hadn't heard his call the first time, when the event actually occurred, or perhaps he simply hadn't registered it. This time he heard it though and turned in the elevator just as the doors closed, observing Ford as he was kneeling on the lab floor, reaching out to him. Then he was gone, and instead of the usual small lights which illuminated the elevator there was pure darkness surrounding him._

 _Bill was left standing on a vast dark plane. A moment later, a yellow glow alerted him to a presence behind him. He turned around with a slight frown on his face. Eye-to-eye, Bill looked at himself._

 _ **"Alright,"**_ _he consented,_ _ **"what do we do now?"**_

 _The triangle smiled, determinable by the up-curving of his lower eye._ _ **"I know as much as you kid. We're the same, after all. I'm just a figment of your imagination, manifested by your desire to be like me again."**_

 _ **"Then you're pretty useless right now, aren't you?"**_

 _ **"Not entirely! Look! I can re-play our memory of that time we changed every clock on Wallstreet to a different time!"**_ _As promised, a rectangular screen-like memory popped up depicting an awful lot of men in business suites running around as if they had Piranhas in their pants._ _ **"The chaos was beautiful..."**_

 _Bill laughed at the memory and looked at his triangular self. Maybe this was a representation of all those memories which were stored somewhere other than in his human mind? His human mind was, after all, too feeble to store so many vast and detailed memories, but Bill always found he could access them when he needed to, within reason_

 _ **"Okay, I gotta admit, that's pretty great, but I've really gotta think right now, so... Begone!"**_ _Without so much as a stutter from his subconscious, his triangular self quickly faded away, leaving Bill alone in the black abyss around him._

 _ **'Think...'**_ _Bill sat down and crossed his legs, automatically moving into the same meditative position that he'd been using for millions of years._

 _ **'I want revenge. Of course I do,'**_ _Was Bill's first solid thought._ _ **'But at what price? How much risk am I willing to take?'**_

 _Bill was under the distinct impression that if he was going to get revenge, then he'd have to wait until there was absolutely no chance of repercussions because..._

 _A chill ran itself up and down Bill's spine, making him tense. He slowly raised his right hand once more to touch lightly near the still blood area where his eye had once been._

 _ **'We'll just say that I have to be cautious for obvious reasons,'**_ _he concluded, but the tension in his back refused to unwind. The prospect that a few simple words could result in such an injury left his thoughts dark and troubled._ _ **'I can't afford to let**_ _ **anyone**_ _ **know I'm out for revenge if and when my time comes to take it. I wasn't even trying to do any harm and still...'**_ _His eye throbbed at the memory of what had happened._

 _The air around him was quickly growing darker and colder than it had been before... Bill stood and began walking through the darkness until the emptiness around him slowly began to fade from black to white. He was suddenly very concerned about what might be happening around him while he slept, and wanted very much to wake up..._

… **.**

Bill opened his eye, blinking blearily a few times before slowly sitting up, subsequently knocking a few stuffed animals silently to the floor. He looked around the room, noting that he was still in the attic and that both twins were still sleeping peacefully in their respective beds.

Bill shivered and crossed his arms. The sense of cold had nothing to do with the temperature of the air around him, and everything to do with the memories he had just re-lived of what had happened between him and Ford down in the lab slightly more than a day ago.

Looking around the room now, Bill was hyper-aware of how _unsecure_ it was. Silently as he could, Bill grasped his mustard-yellow blanket and pulled it off of his bed, knocking the rest of the stuffed animals to the floor in the process. He wrapped the blanket around himself and silently made his way to the door, out of the twins' room, and down the stairs.

Bill stopped momentarily in the living room, only long enough to see that Stanley was asleep in front of the TV with the screen showing nothing but white static. Bill turned the television off without a sound and proceeded down the second flight of stairs, descending into the basement.

He picked up the cage's... _His_ cage's key from the small table near the foot of the stairs, where it was usually kept out of reach from anyone inside the cage. He opened the cage door and stepped inside, cover still wrapped around his shoulders. He reached back through the bars and, using the key, ensured that the cage was locked before curling up in his blanket. There he slept for the rest of the night, locked in his cage with the key clutched tightly to his chest, cocooned in his blanket, shivering, and trying desperately to simply feel _safe..._

 **A/N: I re-wrote parts of this chapter: If anyone's wondering how that whole "two Bills" thing works now, Bill was basically just talking to himself (don't we all do that? Just me? Okay.). It's not like two separate personalities or anything. I** _ **could**_ **have done that and ultimately made it work in the end in awesome ways, but that'd take too much effort, so yes, Bill's just chatting with himself. Helps him think and all that. (Or it helps me think, anyway. Haha.)**

 **Also note that the title of this chapter, "The Second," is so-named because Bill experiences what happened in the lab a second time; it's not really named after the whole "second Bill" thing. Even originally, before I edited this chapter, that had very little to do with the name of this chapter. ;)**

 **'Till next time! Reviews appreciated! ^^**


	46. Chapter 44: Take It Easy

**Chapter 44: Take It Easy**

 **A/N: For anyone who hasn't gotten the memo, I changed the last chapter about sixteen hours after I first posted it, and then I re-posted it, so it's a little different now. Primarily, there aren't really two Bills, Bill was just talking to himself in his own weird way. ^^;**

 **Also, HOLY CRUD HAVE YOU GUYS HEARD?! A Gravity Falls Graphic Novel has officially been announced! And, as Alex Hirsch himself put it on Twitter, it's "The death of your headcanons!"**

 **So, it's been a great ride guys. For all the people who treated this story as your own personal headcanon, thanks so much and I'm thrilled that you've loved this that much, and that you found it believable! Don't get me wrong, I'm not ending this story here and now just because a Gravity Falls comic is coming out! I'm just preparing you guys for the realization that all of this is likely going to be very much NOT what Canon will be like. Still, who knows, maybe I got a** _ **few**_ **things right, right? Wouldn't that be great?! So I'll let you guys know when the comic actually comes out exactly what I got right, if anything, and what I got very, very wrong. XD**

 **(Note that I also never necessarily thought that all the things that I've had happen in my story would happen in Canon if GF ever continued. I've just been passing the time with a** _ **plausible**_ **but somewhat unlikely headcanon. Ha, ha, yeah...)**

 **YAY NEW GF COMIC! I'M SO EXCITED! Are you as excited as me? Probably not? Okay...**

 **Well then, on that bombshell (Top Gear reference), enjoy the story! (And the early update, as a celebration of the new comic's announcement!)**

… **.**

Mabel Pines was awoken by the familiar and delicious scent of Stancakes wafting through the Shack, and by the soft rays of sunlight which filtered through the attic's windows. She stretched and sighed, entirely content, pleased by how her day had begun. She almost expected it to be a perfectly pleasant day...

Until she remembered the events of the previous thirty-six hours.

Her attention instantly went to Bill's air mattress, and she was startled to see that it was unoccupied. She jumped out of bed, ignoring the slight morning chill and a snort of complaint from her fleshy pink pig as she forced him off of her.

"Dipper, wake up!" She shook her twin's shoulder.

"No, Mabel, nooo..." He protested weakly, shoving his face into his pillow.

"Dipper, Bill's missing!" It took only a moment for Dipper's morning-slowed mind to register her words, and as soon as it had he was up.

Dipper looked to Bill's bed too, noticing that his sister wasn't mistaken. They both ran downstairs, still dressed in their night clothes. Or rather, Dipper was still in the same clothes he'd been wearing yesterday, and Mabel was in her nightgown.

They ran to the kitchen and looked around, noting that Stan was still at the stove-top making flap-jacks and that Ford was calmly sipping a cup of black coffee and reading a newspaper. The fact that Ford looked up and curiously quirked an eyebrow at Dipper and Mabel's strange worried faces meant to the younger twins that he likely had nothing to do with Bill's disappearance. Or, at least, he likely had no direct influence...

Dipper and Mabel proceeded to check the living room, gift shop, and up-stairs bathroom. Finally, becoming a bit panicked, they made their way downstairs, deciding that next they would look outside if nothing turned up in the basement.

They rushed downstairs, nearly tripping on the way down, and sighed a simultaneous sigh of relief when they saw Bill's yellow comforter from upstairs in a wad within his cage. After the initial relief, there was the slight concern. Surely their Grunkle Ford hadn't forced Bill into his cage in the middle of the night, had he...?

Dipper reached to his left to grab the key to the cage, but was surprised when his hand met only wood, no metal. "That's strange..."

"M-maybe it just fell," Mabel reasoned quietly, trying not to wake Bill. She and Dipper looked around the floor for the key for a little while, but ultimately found nothing.

"You... You don't think Grunkle Ford locked him in there and kept the key so we couldn't get him out, do you?" Mabel asked Dipper in a whisper barely audible.

Dipper glanced at the cage, checking to make sure Bill was still asleep, before half shrugging and half shaking his head, indicating that, while he was doubtful that their Great Uncle Ford would do something like that, he couldn't be certain.

Dipper and Mabel approached the cage and knelt down. Mabel reached out to shake Bill through the bars, but changed her mind at the last moment and opted for verbally waking him instead.

"Hey, Bill, are you okay in there?" She asked, peering through the bars. There was a quiet groan before Bill slowly sat up, rubbing his eye with his left hand, key still clutched in his right and blankets pooled about his waist.

"Good morning Shooting Star, Pine Tree," he greeted. His voice lacked energy, to say the least, but Dipper had also heard him worse-off in the past. Namely after Ford had tried to strangle him... Dipper pushed that thought away.

"Stan... Made breakfast if you want to join us," Mabel said in a regular inside-volume voice, which Dipper instantly recognized was her attempt at quiet and non-startling. Normally she would be booming through the Shack like a jet engine.

Bill looked towards Ford's bedroom door and his right hand clutched more tightly around the key in his hand. "Where's Stanford at right now?"

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. "He's in the kitchen," Dipper finally admitted.

Bill frowned and clutched at his cover with his left hand. "Then I think I'll stay here, if it's all the same to you." Bill pulled the covers up over his head again, disappearing from sight as he curled up under his blanket in the middle of the cage.

Dipper and Mabel frowned. "Well then I'll... Bring you down something to eat," Mabel finally said before standing and exiting the basement, he brother following right behind her.

"At least he looked better," Dipper commented. "The Crackers really are helping..."

"I know, but why did he lock himself in his cage? I thought he hated it in there!" Mabel said as they exited the stairwell and paused in the living room, pausing to talk before continuing on to the kitchen.

"Now that he has the key, I don't think the cage is there to keep him in anymore," Dipper said. "It's purpose now is to keep everything else _out_. To protect him, not to trap him."

Mabel nodded and slowly continued towards the kitchen. "I guess that makes sense," she conceded before falling silent as they entered the kitchen.

Ford looked up at the children, noting that they still looked worried, but not nearly as panicked as they had a few minutes ago. He glanced between the two of them, and the two of them stared back silently. Knowing that he wouldn't get any verbal recognition from them with Bill in the house, Ford at least quietly asked "are you two alright?"

When they both gave miniscule nods and sat quietly down at the kitchen table, Ford relaxed and went back to reading the paper, or at least pretending to read the paper, knowing that he wouldn't receive any further attention from them unless it was both unwelcome and seemingly angry. For now, he'd settle for no attention at all.

"Why so gloomy today kids?" Stan asked as he walked up to the table with two plates in one hand and a pan in the other. He set the plates down in front of them. "I know what'll cheer you up!" Now, usually, Stan would never do anything special with his pancakes; just make simple, flat, round flap-jacks. But today he knew the kids would be feeling stressed out and down more than a normal teenager should, and he therefore deemed it necessary to do something a little special.

For Mabel, he pulled out a can of whipped cream in one hand and a bottle of rainbow sprinkles in the other. He topped her stack of pancakes with syrup, whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles and, finally, a cherry at the very top to complete it. Mabel's eyes sparkled so brightly that one almost had to squint when looking in her general direction.

"And for you, kid, I've got pancakes that're shaped like them UFO thing-a-ma-jigs you like." Stan set a big, thick pancake down on Dipper's plate that was shaped just the same as any other pancake, if not a bit bigger than the ones Stan usually made.

It took Dipper a second, but he soon burst out in laughter, with Ford hiding a smirk behind his own coffee mug as he pretended to take a sip.

"I don' ge' it," Mabel said around a mouthful of sugar.

"It's because pancakes are already shaped like Flying Saucers **!*"** Dipper said as his chuckles began to subside. Dipper had always appreciated simple intellect more than his sister, who required actual creative care to cheer up when she was down.

Needless to say, the Pines were all able to forget their troubles, even if only for a few minutes, as they ate their breakfast, downing orange juice and scarfing down fluffy Stancakes. Or, in Ford's case, sipping coffee while being simply content with the privilege of listening in on the others' conversation.

All too soon, their responsibilities caught up with them, and Dipper and Mabel let their smiles fade. They felt guilty for thinking it, but sometimes they wished that Bill hadn't come back into their lives...

Shaking their darker thoughts, Mabel silently went to retrieve a pancake for Bill, knowing that he wouldn't eat more than one, before topping it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, syrup, whipped cream, sprinkles, and a cherry. She could only hope that the treat would cheer him up...

"Hey Great Uncle Ford," Dipper asked quietly, and Ford almost flinched at being stripped of his title of "Grunkle". Back when they hardly knew him the kids had referred to him as "Great Uncle," but as they had gotten to know each other he'd long since been promoted to "Grunkle". He knew that it was temporary, as well as necessary (Bill Cipher tended to take notice of even the smallest of things, and it would no doubt please him that Dipper and Mabel were mad enough not to call him "Grunkle" anymore), but it still stung a tad.

"Yes, Dipper?" He asked calmly, lowering his newspaper and keeping the hurt off of his face.

"Do you have any more Crackers for us to feed to Bill? They seem to really help," Dipper responded, and Ford instantly nodded in the affirmation.

"Ah, yes, of course! Here." Ford pulled out a bag from his inner coat pocket. "There's nine in there, enough to last him three days. I figured he might want to hold on to some, in case you're ever out and about and he gets hungry or starts feeling queasy. I added a few medications to this batch that should help him. Not enough to have adverse effects like extreme fatigue, hallucinations, or reduced reflex time. Just a few low-level painkillers and antibiotics that I whipped up. In the next batch I'll take them out again, since he should be well enough healed by then, but for these nine make sure you follow my instructions on how often to feed them to him extra carefully. Remember: No more than three a day and no more than one within a three-hour time-span. Overdosing wouldn't cause serious problems, but it could have a few adverse effects. And he still needs sugar."

Ford and Dipper glanced up at Mabel, who had just picked up the plate stacked with ice cream and whipped cream. "I somehow don't think that's going to be a problem," Dipper said with a slight smile before taking the bag of Crackers. He whispered a hushed "Thanks Grunkle Ford" before following his sister down to the basement.

Bill ate in relative silence, managing to force down a tasteless Cracker with the sweets of his breakfast and a glass of OJ to wash it down. After that he reluctantly handed the key to his cage over to Mabel, who unlocked his cage and had Dipper take him upstairs to let him wash up and change into fresh clothes while Mabel took his other clothes to be washed.

When she returned to the attic bathroom, Dipper was just finishing in helping Bill re-wrap his eye with bandages. Bill was dressed only in his black slacks and a black button-down shirt, still toweling his hair dry at the tips. He held out towards Mabel his yellow knitted sweater and a pair of black slacks nearly identical to those he was wearing. The only difference, in fact, was the blood on them. Mabel took the articles of clothing.

"Well, the pants shouldn't be a problem: They're black, so the blood won't leave a visible stain." Mabel paused. "But... If you want we can still get rid of them."

Bill shook his head. "I don't mind wearing them again, provided they're clean. I don't associate them with my recent injury."

Mabel nodded, draping the pants over her arm before holding up Bill's yellow sweater. "I can't say the same for your sweater," she said sadly. There were dark splotches all down the front side of it, left there by drying blood from Bill's injury. "Yellow is too bright a color for blood to be washed out without a trace, and I can't just bleach it because it'll lose its color..." Mabel forced herself to smile. "But don't worry Bill, I can make you a new one! If you want me to."

Bill contemplated for a moment, resting his chin on one hand in thought. Finally, he slowly said: "…. No... I think I'll keep this one..." He held out his hand and Mabel reluctantly passed it back to him.

Bill held the material in front of him, stared at it for a moment, and closed his eye. A few moments passed before he opened his eye again, this time the eye glowing blue; a faint blue glow spread over the sweater. Mabel's eyes widened and Dipper forced himself not to move away out of fear.

The blood stains on the sweater appeared to burn away and fall off as dust. The blue haze faded and Bill staggered, flinching slightly as Dipper stepped forward and caught him by the arm, holding him steady.

"Are you sure you should be using your powers so soon after being hurt?" Dipper asked, worry evident in his tone, though Bill imagined he could hear a slight lacing of fear as well.

"No. In fact I'm certain that I _shouldn't_ be using my powers _at all_ right now, for a number of reasons. I wasn't even certain I could do it, despite the task being simple and menial."

"Well, just, take it easy then, alright? I don't wanna have to catch you when you pass out," Dipper joked lightly.

Bill nodded in agreement and slipped on the sweater. He righted it by tugging at the bottom edge until it was centered properly. He admired his favorite article of clothing for a moment.

"Alright, well, we have some time today, so why don't we-WAAAGH!" Mabel let out a startled exclamation as Bill turned his attention to her... And the eye on his sweater _moved_.

"Okay, I _know_ I didn't just imagine that if Mabel saw it too," Dipper said, stepping back a bit and shivering as both Bill and the eye turned their attention to him.

"What are you talking about now, Pine Tree?" Bill asked. Dipper simply pointed at the eye on Bill's sweater, and as Bill looked down at it, the eye peered back up at him.

"Hmm. That's odd," Bill said calmly.

"That's _freaky!_ " Mabel argued. "What'd you _do_ to it!"

Bill hummed in thought as he and the eye continued to stare at each other. "I suppose this is a cursed item now. A combination of my blood and powers has been known to have that influence on things. It was often how I triggered strange phenomenon in Gravity Falls. That was quite some time ago though; I had a host here in Gravity Falls at one point that let me hang around long enough to have full control over them, and their blood became my own. Those were good times. It was as short-lived as my host, of course, but still, it was great..."

"Can you, like... See out of it or something?" Dipper asked, daring to lean in a bit closer. He jumped back again when the eye blinked.

"No, of course not," Bill replied smoothly. "It clearly has a mind of its own," he said as the sweater looked back up at him while Bill looked down at the floor, contemplating.

 _'Now exactly_ _ **what**_ _mind it has, I haven't the faintest idea,'_ Bill thought to himself. He didn't find that necessary to tell the children about though: Chances were high that it was a very simple spirit born out of his blood and brought to life by the spark of his magical touch. It likely lacked any higher thought-processes.

"I think I can make it stop moving, if you want," Bill said. "It'll still be there, able to move if it ever wanted to, but I can ask it to keep still if that would make the two of you feel better."

"Yes, please, do!" Mabel said instantly, creeped out as the eye once again turned its gaze on her.

Bill looked down at it. "Hey you," he said calmly, but also authoritatively. "I'm Bill Cipher, and I made you. Now stop acting like an eye for a while and act like a proper sweater. Look straight forward and _don't move_ ," he instructed. The eye blinked a couple of times, as if slowly registering what he was demanding of it, before centering its pupil back in the middle of its movable area and becoming perfectly still, looking no different now than it had before it first moved.

Dipper frowned. "I'm just going to try and pretend that that never happened now," he said, slowly walking around in front of Bill, as if seeing if the eye truly wouldn't follow him.

It didn't move a millimeter.

"Doesn't it have to blink eventually or something?" Dipper asked.

Bill scoffed. "Of course not. It's not a real eye, Pine Tree. It's just made of cloth, after all. Cloth, a little bit of my blood, and a tiny bit of magic. That's all. It's equally as capable of being a sweater design as it is of being an eye."

"Okaaay then..." Mabel said, clearly unnerved. "I'm going to add your pants to the wash. Be right back."

Her departure from the room was just a bit too hasty not to be called a retreat. It brought a genuine smirk to Bill's face.

 ***A Rick and Morty reference, in celebration of the fact that they also FINALLY recently announced that the rest of season three will be continuing at the end of July (for anyone who cares about that or wants to know what this is referencing). It's been one exciting day for me, my friends. I'm so excited I think I'm gonna throw up! X'D**


	47. Chapter 45: Bored Games

**Chapter 45: Bored Games**

 **A/N: For anyone that's interested, I have started an Ask-Blog for Bill Cipher! It can be found on my DeviantArt (Username: 3DPhantom) or on Tumblr (Tumblr Page Title: Ask Bill Cipher by 3DPhantom). I hope you guys will go take a look, maybe ask some questions!**

 **I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

Stan, Ford, Wendy, and Soos were all helping out with the Shack today, so Stan had instructed the kids to take the day off. In reality, of course, they weren't as much "taking the day off" as they were being tasked with watching over the now more distraught than ever Human Bill Cipher. Not exactly what one would call a vacation.

"S'long as IQ can't be down in the lab, he might as well take over for you two. So that you two can try to clean up his mess a bit, ya know?" Was precisely how Stan had put it.

The trio of Dipper, Mabel and Bill had tried for a while to simply watch TV in the living room, but that ended after only an hour when Ford had walked into the room, looked up, saw them there, saw Bill staring at him so wide-eyed that one might of thought he was about to burst, and had promptly walked back out of the room. Literally, he walked backwards, retracing his steps as if set on rewind out of the room, trying to undo the very uncomfortable five seconds that had been, continuing on past the hallway and straight out of the Shack, trying to give Bill as much space as possible.

As soon as Ford was out the door Bill had seemingly disappeared. Dipper and Mabel found him less than two minutes later, huddled up under the covers in his cage and refusing to either show himself or hand over the key to the cage's door. It took a lot of coaxing from primarily Mabel and a promise for them to head straight up to the attic, where Ford certainly wouldn't go, to get Bill to finally take a deep breath and hand over the key. Even after the cage door was open, Dipper and Mabel had stood back and waited the several minutes it took for Bill to finally force himself out of his cage. They hadn't gone into the cage or dragged him out for fear of hurting and/or frightening him and potentially losing some of the trust he'd already shown in them since the incident.

The three of them, as promised, retreated to the attic, where they settled on playing board games. Dipper and Mabel could _swear_ that every time Bill pronounced it as "bored games". You can't necessarily hear the difference, but somehow they could _feel_ it in Bill's tone of voice. Plus, when Dipper asked how exactly Bill pictured it as being spelled in his head, Bill only gave a small sly smirk in response.

It took some time picking a game, mostly because Bill almost always suggested something involving gambling and/or pranks and dares that neither of the twins wanted to even think of playing with him. One game had been ruled out by Bill, a game titled "What Could Go Wrong?" Dipper and Mabel had once considered playing that game, and based on Bill's reaction to it being brought up they were now glad that they'd never started it.

"I don't feel like an adventure today, and that game would definitely require some adult supervision. Honestly, I'm surprised it was so recklessly left lying around. Much like Stanford's Infinity-Sided Die, it can result in almost any outcome, and is banned in over nine-thousand dimensions." Bill smirked and tapped his chin as if in consideration. "In fact, I think it's mostly banned in the same dimensions that the Infinity-Sided Die is banned in. Some people have dared to use the two in combination... They usually don't live to talk about it, but it made for a great TV show in Dimension 1N1R3H25 ***** for a couple of millennia. I did enjoy that, but it's much more fun to spectate than participate in."

"Why did they end the TV show? Did they finally realize that it was immoral to show horrible things happening to people on TV?"

Bill scoffed. " _Oh please,_ of course that wasn't it! It was that world's highest-ranking show, and all of the contestants went on willingly, usually for fame or because their families were promised economic security if the contestant didn't chicken out. No, the show ended because that entire quadrant of space disappeared."

"The game did that?" Dipper asked, looking horrified. Bill smiled and gave a curt nod in response. Dipper shuddered and looked down at the box in his hands. "We should destroy this thing," he said as he set it carefully aside.

In the end they'd all decided to play Monopoly: Electronic Banking Edition. Stan had reluctantly bought it for them after he kept taking the money and giving it to people in lieu of actual cash: The trick hardly ever worked, but that didn't stop Stan from trying, usually with children. Kids were often enough willing to hand over real money for the colorful slips of paper...

Bill and Dipper were going all-out, trying to calculate exactly how they needed to throw the dice, bargaining with each other and Mabel for various things, cutting deals and plotting moves in advance, for as much as was possible. Dipper was rather constantly frustrated by Bill's ability to throw the dice _exactly_ as he wanted them to go: Dipper himself did well enough when calculating his throws, but he couldn't reproduce Bill's skill of getting it exactly right for every single throw. Dipper would claim cheating via the use of magic, if he hadn't once seen Bill throw a stick that was on fire over ten meters and precisely land it in order to save Mabel. That occurrence lead Dipper to believe that such skills were simply part of what made him "Bill".

Mabel enjoyed playing with them, despite the fact that she was losing terribly, mostly because they were both nice enough to let her have all of the pink properties (the only ones she really wanted) and she was glad to see them at least sort-of getting along and not stressing out over one thing or another. So Mabel happily sat off to the side, playing with the extra figurines, rolling the dice when it was her turn and letting Dipper (the designated Banker, since no one trusted Bill to do it) manage her finances.

The game was going by quickly and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves... Dipper glanced up slightly nervously about an hour and a half into the game, as Bill was preparing to throw his dice, and weighed his words carefully.

"Hey Bill?" Bill hummed in response as he continued to shake the dice, enclosed in his hand while he surveyed the board and decided what number he wanted them to land on. "Are... Are you sure you're okay? After what happened."

Bill's eye snapped up to him and he accidentally let go of the dice, glancing at them to see that they'd landed him on the Go-To-Jail spot, but he didn't care about that at the moment. Instead he looked back at Dipper and now also Mabel, who had stopped playing with the metal character pieces and was now intently watching Bill to see what he'd say.

Bill took a deep breath and sighed, running a hand through his golden hair. "This... Isn't the worst thing I've ever had happen to me, Pine Tree," Bill finally said after a long moment of hesitation. "It was the most _painful_ thing that I can remember having ever felt, so that was quite shocking... And I'm not sure I've ever been more furious with Stanford before..." In reality, Bill knew for a fact that he'd never been more furious at the old man _ever_... "But what can I do? This is just one of those things that I can't actually _do_ anything about, or at least there's nothing I can do _at the moment_. So I'm just going to try and ignore it, like I usually do for this sort of thing. I must say though; this body makes it difficult. I don't seem to be able to stop it from releasing cortisol and adrenalin every time Sixer walks in the room."

"Court of who?" Mabel asked. Dipper rolled his eyes.

"He means he can't help but be afraid every time Ford's nearby."

"Oh," Mabel said quietly. She hummed. "I really thought you were going to make a bigger deal out of all this," she admitted. "I thought for sure you'd be all dramatic and stuff."

Bill didn't meet her gaze. "I can't do that though, can I? Trust me, I'd like nothing more than to raise a bit of hell for Ford right now, but I _can't_. Or at least, I can't without getting injured again, or _worse_. If your idiot, high-IQ Grunkle ended up stabbing me in the eye because of some off-handed suggestion, just what do you think he'd do if I was actually _trying_ to piss him off?"

Dipper and Mabel looked to each other. Finally, Dipper conceded. "I'd like to be able to say that this was a one-time deal, and that he's sorry enough to never, ever do something like this again, but I can't. It was an accident this time, but it could always be an accident next time too. Something bad probably _would_ happen if you started pushing his buttons. I'm just... Glad your self-preservation is a high enough priority that you won't let your emotions get the best of you."

Bill huffed and snatched up the dice off the game board, beginning to shake them once more in his hand.

"Hey, wait a second, you already rolled!" Dipper complained.

"But you distracted me and made me mess up, and besides... What number did I roll?" Bill grinned a devilish smirk at him as Dipper blanched. "Don't remember, do ya Pine Tree?"

"Ugh, fine, just roll again already!" Dipper said with fake malice in his voice.

"Gladly," Bill complied effortlessly, letting go of the dice once more.

Another thirty minutes passed in this way, with Mabel playing once more with the figurines, this time using a hotel piece as a "doggie house" for the little metal dog character.

Their game was interrupted once more, this time around three o'clock, as the door to the attic was suddenly kicked open, the wooden door slamming against the wall with a loud " _bang_ ".

Bill's body lurched at the startling sound. Within a moment he'd rolled sideways and positioned himself on the opposite side of the air mattress from the attic door. He peeked cautiously over the edge of the mattress as if he was hiding from something horrendous that was out to get him.

Wendy's eyes widened. She was still standing in the doorway holding three plates, balancing two on her right arm and holding one in her opposite hand.

"Um, wow. Okay, I am like, _so_ sorry for that dude," she said, staring back at the single golden eye which watched her from behind the air mattress. "I just couldn't get the door open, since I was bringing you guys lunch, and I know that if you kick this door it just kinda opens, so..." She trailed off, still staring at Bill. All she could see of him was his yellow left eye, a mess of white bandages, and tufts of hair.

"Dipper," she said somewhat quietly, leaning slightly closer to the teen sitting cross-legged on the floor, apparently not too worried about what was going on in the room around him. "Hurry up and take these plates so I can stop feeling like there's a jungle cat about to pounce at me," she said, her eyes never leaving Bill's slit pupil.

"Oh, yeah, right! Sorry!" Dipper said, standing up in a haste and taking two of the plates. He handed them to Mabel before taking the third one as well. "Why don't you stay and play a few games with us?" Dipper offered, blushing slightly. "We're pretty much finished with Monopoly."

"Yes! Please! Stay!" Mabel insisted. "I'm outnumbered by nerds AND boys!"

Wendy looked at Bill again, who had narrowed his eye and was now glaring at her. _'Traitors!'_ Bill thought to himself silently.

"Are ya sure that's a good idea?" Wendy asked skeptically.

Dipper glanced back at the glaring Bill before scoffing and waving off her concern. "Oh, yeah, totally! Don't mind him, he's just being moody and paranoid. He'll get over it, don't worry."

"She threatened to kill me with an axe the first time I met her in this form..." Bill said quietly, sounding slightly more sulky than accusatory. Dipper rolled his eyes.

"You'll be fine. Come on in," Dipper said, stepping out of the doorway and letting Wendy in.

She shrugged and sat down on the floor where they had all the games pulled out. "Alright. If you're sure..."

"Sure I'm sure," Dipper said. "He has to come out from back there if he wants to eat before his food gets cold." Dipper smiled at Mabel and, understanding what he was getting at, she placed the second plate she was holding down on the ground near them. Bill glared more fiercely than ever, this time at the plate offering a hot dog, bottle of water, and bag of... How dare they?! Doritos... How cruel for the Pines twins to use them against him...!

"You two drive a hard bargain," Bill said. "You monsters." Dipper and Mabel smiled as, slowly and grumbling under his breath the entire time, Bill stood and walked around the air mattress, plopping down in front of the offered meal. He picked up the bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and pointed it at Mabel as if it was a floppy gun. "You never showed me how to open these properly." Mabel grinned and went to grab the bag from him, but he yanked it away at the last second. "Nu-uh! I know what you're gonna do, Shooting Star! You're going to pop the bag just like you did last time and cover the whole room in chip bits!"

"Phff, whaat? I was not!" Mabel said, but the fact that she couldn't keep a grin off her face while she said it clearly implied that she was lying.

Bill was about to hold the bag out to Dipper when Wendy suddenly reached forward. "I'll show you," she offered. She didn't move to actually grab the bag, just to offer her hand and wait for him to hand it over to her. Instead of easily handing it over he flinched and leaned away from her, staring at her hand as if it were a snake poised to strike. Wendy was about to pull away and apologize again when Dipper shook his head, implying that she should insist. Wendy frowned, but did as Dipper had silently instructed.

 _'This is idiotic,'_ Bill thought. _'It's completely ludicrous that I should be so terrified right now!'_ But he could hear the pounding of blood flowing strong in his ears as fear gripped him for a few seconds longer. _'I shouldn't get freaked out just because Red storms in the room or offers to open a bag of chips!'_ With a frown, and despite the pounding of his heart in his chest, Bill forced himself to calmly hand over the bag.

Wendy smiled as she took it. As a Corduroy, she'd spent plenty of nights out camping in the woods. Heck, most middle-class Americans went "camping" in log cabins nicer than the one she lived in! Therefore, it was safe to say that Wendy knew what a scared and feral animal looked like, and she could honestly say that Bill had that look down pat. She'd seen him wild and angry before, especially during Weirdmageddon, but it had never before included the sensation of facing an animal which has been backed into a corner. Even as she showed him how to open the bag properly, he looked as if he expected to have to fight for his life at any given moment.

Maybe if she was in a house full of enemies who potentially wanted her dead she'd look like that too. From that perspective, she knew where he was coming from. And yes, she _had_ threatened to kill him if he hurt anyone...

"Sooo," Wendy said, looking at the Monopoly board in front of them. "What are we playing?"

"Well, we're done playing Monopoly, so why don't you pick the next game Wendy?" Dipper offered.

"You give up then?" Bill asked with a smirk as he ate another chip. Mabel was watching him with almost the same level of fascination she'd had the first time around, and Bill pointedly ignored her.

"I landed on your Boardwalk with a hotel on it, man. Of course I give up!" Dipper complained mildly. Bill only grinned in response as Dipper started putting the game away.

"So, what _do_ you wanna play?" Mabel asked Wendy. "We could play in here, or we could go outside on an adventure!" (Bill's adamant "NO" was ignored by the girl in the pink sweater.) "You're done working at the shop for the day, right?"

Wendy looked off to the right. "Well, technically, no... But since when have I cared about when I'm officially 'off work'?" She asked with a smile. "I don't think Stan will bother me about it too much. He's been having fun bossing Mr. Ford around all day, so he'll enjoy being able to give him even more chores to do." Wendy glanced at Bill, realizing a little too late that maybe it was a mistake to mention Ford. When Bill didn't react, only pulled out a Cracker and started munching on it, Wendy relaxed again. "Anyway, I guess an adventure outside sounds fun. I've never really liked board or card games. They're not my style. Unless you've got Cards Against Humanity..."

"NO!" Dipper and Mabel said in unison, and Bill grinned maniacally.

"Bill always laughs at _all_ of the wrong moments," Dipper said. "It's creepy playing with him." Dipper pointed at Bill and looked him dead in the eye. "You're creepy man. Hilarious, _sometimes_ , but creepy."

Bill shrugged. "What can I say? I have an _enlightened_ sense of humor."

"Terrifying," Mabel corrected. "I know that game's designed for teens and older to begin with, but all of the _side comments_ you make, and the stories you tell..." She shivered.

"Okaaay..." Wendy agreed. "It wasn't even a real suggestion to begin with. I didn't actually expect you guys to have ever played that game, considering how young you are."

"We were being stubborn, thinking 'Hey! We're teenagers, almost fourteen now! We're up for it!' We were _not_ up for it," Dipper clarified.

"Alright, then back to the original plan. Outside it is?" Wendy asked.

Bill groaned. " _Another_ adventure outside? Those _never go well_..."

"Well, if you're really going to be a stick in the mud about it, then we'll just sit here and play these boring games," Wendy said somewhat tauntingly. "Or aren't you Bill Cipher the party god?"

Bill's eyebrows rose in slight surprise and his lips quirked upwards a bit at the edges.

"Oh no. Now you've done it," Dipper said, face-palming.

"'Party god,' huh? Fine. How about we make _a deal_ then." Wendy glanced at Dipper to make sure that it wasn't _that_ kind of a deal. At Dipper's half-encouraging shrug, she responded.

"Alright, sure, what are your terms?" She asked.

Bill's grin grew simply devious. "We stay inside, here, in the attic, and in return, _I'll_ provide the _entertainment_..."

Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy exchanged nervous glances.

"Hey Pine Tree, go grab Fordsie's birthday present from me."

 **A/N: Yroo rh obrmt.**

 ***Yup, that's code for something. Care to take a gander? ^^**

 **Remember: Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, and I am The Axolotl. ;3**


	48. Chapter 46: Memoria Orbis

**Chapter 46:** _ **Memoria Orbis**_

 **A/N: Yes, the code at the end of the last chapter said "Bill is lying" and, also, the other code in the chapter, "Dimension 1N1R3H25" decodes to "Dimension ANARCHY".**

 **Now then, enjoy~!**

Dipper complied with an excited smile. He rushed out of the room.

"Is this really a good idea?" Mabel asked.

Bill nodded. "Of course. I'm not going to summon a Level Ten Specter into the Mystery Shack, Shooting Star."

"I thought ghosts were supposed to be summoned at night and stuff," Wendy commented.

"I'm not summoning a typical ghost. What you humans think of as normal ghosts are the after-shadows of humans; I'm summoning something slightly different."

"What is it?" Mabel asked as Dipper came back into the room, closing the door behind him while Wendy cleared away the scattered board games.

"I'm going to summon the spirit of a cursed tree that used to stand near the lake here in Gravity Falls. It was an ancient old willow tree that grew on the water's edge: It was destroyed many years ago during the creation of the more modern version of the town you see today. It used to be the historian of Gravity Falls, it collected the memories of various animals and creatures. I had summoned it to Gravity Falls long ago so that it could monitor the town and gather information during my absences from the town. Whenever I came back to Gravity Falls I would stop by there and see what changes had come about and how."

Bill paused to roll out the specialized Ouija board Dipper had just handed him as Dipper turned off the lights and drew the curtains over the windows there in the attic.

"Of course, you can imagine my mild surprise when one year I came back and discovered that one of the changes made in my absence was the destruction of the willow," Bill continued after settling the Ouija in the center of the four of them. "In retrospect I should have cast a protective spell over it, but I really just didn't care enough. After all, even without the tree I could investigate anything that was different from the last time I visited. It really wasn't a necessity, just a convenience."

"So it's not dangerous?" Dipper asked, sounding just a tiny bit disappointed.

"No, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its merits. It can show you any memory it possesses of its time in Gravity Falls. Best of all, it can transfer memories between people. Shall we get started?" Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy nodded.

Bill crossed his legs and rested his wrists on his knees, touching his index fingers to his thumbs and closing his eye in a pose of meditation. The other three waited patiently. They looked down at the Ouija board, able to see its symbols clearly enough as afternoon sunlight seeped through the attic windows' curtains. Bill opened his eye and, leaving his right hand as it was, he lifted his left hand and extended his index finger. He touched it to the top center of the paper, his single golden eye glinting just the lightest shade of sparkling cyan blue. No one noticed this, too fixated on the paper and Bill's left index finger, which was now moving slowly across the paper.

Dipper had of course, along with Ford, studied this paper before and knew exactly which symbols represented what letters of the alphabet. As Bill's finger moved he listed off the letters in his head that Bill's finger hesitated on.

 _'M. E. M. O. R. I. A. O. R. B. I. S.'_

As soon as Bill pulled his hand back away from the paper, a soft white light with neon rainbow beams began to glow from the center of the parchment. The glow rose, revealing an elegant multi-colored orb that levitated two feet off the ground perfectly evenly between the four of them. The orb itself was only about six inches in diameter, its beams of light stretching in various directions throughout the room, resembling a soft crystal opal.

"Sweet. Remind me to bring this thing to my next rave," Wendy commented.

"I'm SO using this as a disco ball at our next birthday party, Dipper!" Mabel said excitedly, reaching out to wave at the soft mist-like white tendrils that wafted from the orb. It twisted around her hand, moving out of the way of the air currents she created. "Like touching clouds," Mabel wondered quietly. She reached forward to touch the orb itself.

"Wait," Bill ordered and she paused, her fingertips a few inches from the orb. "Choose a fond memory and keep it in mind when you touch it," Bill instructed. Mabel did as he asked her, a look of concentration crossing her features before she moved her hand into the glowing light source.

"Alright, now what?" Mabel asked. In response Bill reached forward and made to grab one of the tendrils still wafting through the air. Wendy and Dipper followed suite.

 _Each person saw it in perfect clarity: Even Mabel was left with the feeling that she was reliving the moment rather than simply remembering it. Dipper and Mabel, looking to be about the age of seven, each sat at the kitchen table in their home back in Piedmont, California. Dipper was sick, his nose redder than usual and eyes stuffy as the two sat eating their dinner. Mabel was playing with her spaghetti and meatballs as Dipper half-heartedly tried to force himself to eat. Just as he was swallowing a forkful he sneezed, resulting in several strands of the pasta hanging from his nose. He gagged and quickly began to pull the strands out while his twin sister laughed hysterically next to him, falling out of her chair in mirth._

The memory ended and Wendy and Bill looked to the twins. Dipper was red with embarrassment and Mabel was rolling on the floor laughing.

"Mabel! Not cool! You weren't supposed to tell anyone about that!" Dipper said indignantly, turning even redder as Wendy couldn't hold back a snort of amusement.

"B-b-but I _didn't_ tell anyone! The ghost thing did it!" Mabel defended, pointing at the ball of light that was now more yellow than it had previously been.

Bill smirked. "Anyone else got memories they want to share?"

"I wanna see what _you_ have to offer," Wendy spoke up, wiggling her eyebrows at him, tempting him.

"Hmm... I'd have to choose carefully..." Bill contemplated.

"Can you show us the Nightmare Realm?" Dipper asked suddenly. Bill tensed.

"I... I don't know if that's a good idea... It'd certainly also depend on _what_ I show you. Some of the things that were a normal day for me there would drive you insane..." Bill paused. "But there are also memories that I'm very fond of, ones that I think even you simple humans could appreciate." Bill still seemed hesitant.

"If it's too personal you don't have to," Mabel spoke up. "I know it was, like, your home, so..."

Bill sighed. "Alright, alright, fine." He stuck his hand into the orb after a moment of contemplation and it glowed a mixture of blue and soft pink.

"Why does it change colors?" Dipper asked.

"Emotional attachments to the memories," Bill responded briefly. The rest of the group reached forward and they were sucked into the memory.

 _At first it was dark, nothing in sight. One could sense that they were outside, but the sky held no stars. An inky blackness stretched out, and several long seconds passed... Slowly, the world began to come into focus as the sky took on lighter colors that bled into the darkness and forced it away. A glossy silver sun rose over the horizon, followed shortly after by a smaller, dimmer, dark golden sun. This smaller sun had rings criss-crossing over it like orbits around an atom, each one a different soft shade of gold. And it was as the suns rose that stars began to come out, as if they were being thrown right into the sky like colorful glitter._

 _A familiar yellow triangle could be seen perched on a rocky cliff, the stones seeded with a striking maroon pigment unlike anything seen on Earth. Bill's legs dangled over the edge and swayed lightly. He reached out his left hand and touched a finger to the maroon stony ground: Where he touched little burst of Mandelbrot design would spring up and fade away._

 _"A third-quarter sunrise in the delta quadrant," Bill's voice clarified softly, ringing through the memory, but not a part of it. It took a moment for those observing the memory to realize that Bill was speaking to them, outside of the memory, which was evident in the way his voice lacked a bit of the ethereal, ringing tone that it had whenever Bill was in his true form._

 _As the two suns finished rising over the horizon a glossy city could be seen floating over a coral-pink ocean._

 _"What, did you think that_ _ **everything**_ _in the Nightmare Realm would be fire, darkness, and chaos? The whole point of chaos is that, sometimes, having something ordered in the midst of chaos_ _ **is**_ _chaos. When faced with true randomness, sometimes you're going to see some order and patterns, just because that's the very last thing you'd expect to see."_

 _The memory faded as the two suns rose higher in the sky and Bill's memory-self gave no indication of moving any time soon. As it ended, a wave of sadness and loss overcame those watching..._

Mabel, Dipper, and Wendy gasped as they left the memory. They each wiped tears from their faces and looked at Bill, but his eye was dry, no sign of tears or sadness on his face. Only an empty, carefully-neutral and controlled expression.

"Why was it sad?" Mabel asked. "It looked happy enough to me," she said as she finished wiping away her tears using her sweater's sleeve.

"That location no longer exists," Bill said in a monotone voice. "As the Nightmare Realm degrades it grows smaller; that particular location was dropped out of existence long ago."

"Like how one day California may just drop into the ocean?" Dipper asked. "Things just kind of fall out of the Nightmare Realm? Where do they go?"

"They go nowhere. They stop existing. That's what happens when you have an unstable realm moving between the cracks of other realms and dimensions; parts of it continue to simply cease to exist as the fabric of the realm itself pulls apart. Eventually the unifying thread will snap and the rest of the fabric holding everything together will unravel in an instant."

"Oh," Dipper said quietly. Dipper could hardly imagine what it would feel like if his home state of California actually _did_ fall off the map. _'I feel like I understand him just a bit better,'_ Dipper thought to himself as Bill reached out with both hands and grabbed the orb, pulling it towards himself.

"Well, I think it's time to send it away now. Time elapses differently when reminiscing about the past, and it will be dinner time soon." Surprised, Dipper opened the curtains over the windows and realized that, indeed, the sun was setting.

Dipper turned back just in time to see Bill, still holding the orb, as the orb turned a violent mix of aqua blue, scarlet, and a sickly green shade. Moments later Bill let go of the orb and it lifted through the air, disappearing through the ceiling, gone, out of sight.

 _'I wonder what he was thinking about,'_ Dipper wondered with a frown on his face. _'It looked unpleasant.'_ Bill was still watching where the spirit had disappeared through the ceiling. He waited a moment longer before standing. Without a word, he began to pick up the board games still pushed to the side of the room and started putting them away. Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy moved to help him.

"Well, the shop will be closed by now, so I guess I'm gonna head home," Wendy said, jutting her thumb towards the door to the attic. She was just about to leave when a thick, deep scream reverberated from downstairs, carrying all the way up through the Mystery Shack, shaking the wooden walls.

All eyes in the room were on Bill, whose expression was mostly blank, but he couldn't completely keep away the dark, evil smirk on his face as his eye met Mabel's terrified look.

"Oh, Bill..." Mabel gasped. "What did you _do_?"

Bill did not respond.

 **A/N: Oooohhh. Lol.**

 **Remember! Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, Buy Gold, BYE~!**


	49. Chapter 47: Sympathizing

**Chapter 47: Sympathizing**

Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy all looked to each other with wide eyes before turning their gazes to Bill. Bill stared down at the floor, sitting with his legs crossed on his air mattress, eye glaring slightly and lips pressed together in determined silence.

The scream downstairs cut off after a few long seconds and the Shack was silent for several moments.

Downstairs, Stan was standing stock-still, staring intently down at where Ford had just collapsed to the ground. He wasn't unconscious, just on his hands and knees, trembling and gasping for breath, trying to re-gain control over himself. Stan had no idea what had just happened: One moment Stan had been fixing dinner in the kitchen, Soos having left the Shack just a few minutes prior, when as Ford entered the room a glowing ball of light had passed into the six-fingered man's chest and disappeared into him. His eyes had rolled back in his head, he'd fallen to his knees, and he'd let out a blood-curdling scream.

Stanley raced to his brother's side as the glowing orb, now drained of the green red and blue it'd had before entering Stanford, departed and drifted away through the walls and out into the descending night sky.

"Hey, Ford, what's tha matter?! What was that thing?!" Stan asked, panicked. Ford didn't respond at first, his hands balling into fists as he angrily pushed himself off of the ground.

Stan blinked a few times, surprised and concerned, and followed his brother as he marched loudly up the stairs.

Ford hesitated in the doorway, pure rage etched into his features. Wendy, Dipper, and Mabel all stood, staring at Ford with wide eyes as he slammed the attic door open, Stan standing closely behind his brother. Bill still sat cross-legged on the air mattress, not moving an inch, despite the fear that gripped him. Overpowering the fear was defiance that shone clearly in his slightly red-tinged eye. He stared dead-ahead at Ford, unwavering, almost _daring_ him to do something.

Ford complied, and before anyone in the room could move to stop him, he'd darted forward and made to throw a basic six-fingered punch at Bill's abdomen. Bill never lost his calm and defiant expression though as he threw up his hands, his eye switching from red to blue and an azure light radiating from his palms. The eye on his sweater, to the fascination of the rest of the room, also glowed blue, snapping up to look at Stanford's approaching fist.

In an instant there was a blue shield, a translucent curving oval of energy between Bill and the angry old man. Ford's fist slammed into it and the shield vibrated, but it held, despite the slightly pained and strained expression Bill was now wearing: He was clearly still not up to using his newly-partially-restored powers to such a degree, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to block another blow.

Luckily for him, he didn't have to as Wendy, surprisingly enough, was the first to take action. She tripped Stanford and had him in a head-lock before Ford could even recoil for a second punch and Bill, with a small sigh of relief, dropped his shield, the pupil of the eye on his sweater losing its azure haze once again and becoming still in the center of the cloth.

Ford squirmed. "Calm down, Mr. Pines! We'll talk about it, okay? Just, chill!" Wendy demanded.

"Alright, alright, alright!" Ford consented and Wendy let go of him, positioning herself to still be between him and Bill. She knew, of course, that Bill had probably very clearly just done something wrong, and Wendy figured that Stan could deal with him, but she wasn't ready to stand back and watch Ford hurt Bill while she knew some of the things that had been going on in the past few days.

Ford righted himself, wiped tears from his eyes that no one had realized had been there since the moment he first screamed, and he pushed past Stanley as he went out of the room.

A minute went by in silence. Just as Stan was about to ask Cipher what exactly was going on, Ford returned. Stan, Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy tensed again, ready to hold him off if need be, but Bill didn't seem nearly as concerned. Instead he forced himself up off the bed, walking over to where Ford was standing in the doorway. Ford's expression was nothing short of remorseful.

"Bill, I..." Bill waited. "…. I'm sorry."

Bill shrugged. "I don't forgive you. You know that."

Ford nodded. "Yes, I know. But I'm still sorry."

Bill nodded in return and Ford stepped aside as Bill left the room, heading downstairs to his cage where he locked himself up and fell almost instantly asleep in his covers, trying to regain the energy he'd just depleted in using his magic shield.

"What... The _hell_... Just happened?" Stan asked the room in general. Ford sighed and turned to look at the other four occupants of the room.

"I'm sorry to all of you, as well. Reacting so violently was a bit out of my control, but I should have tried harder to manage myself."

"Grunkle Ford, what happened?" Dipper re-stated the question, looking for answers. He had a few ideas about what events may have just occurred, but he wasn't certain.

"Are you okay?" Mabel tacked on, not able to stop herself, even though she was supposed to be acting like she was furious at her Grunkle. She was too concerned for his well-being to remember to act angry at the moment.

Ford nodded. "I'm alright. Bill just cast me a few memories, specifically every memory he has of me hurting him since he first arrived here in Gravity Falls two weeks ago." Everyone but Ford cringed. "Yes, it was quite overwhelming. Painful, scary, overall just disconcerting…. And I admit, I deserved it. It was a creative and not-too-damaging way for him to exact a little revenge on me for what I've done. The last memory I lived was, of course, the incident from a couple of nights ago, with what happened down in the lab." Everyone could tell that Ford was avoiding saying _"you know, when I stabbed him in the eye,"_ but the thought was still there, implied. "The memory also transferred large amounts of his anger to me, so I truly couldn't help myself when I came up here and tried to attack him just now. I'm sure he knew that was coming. The shield he put up is new... Or has he always been able to do that?"

"He... Did mention gaining a few powers from The Axolotl after what happened down in the lab. It must have given him a way to defend himself," Dipper supplied as a means of answer.

Ford nodded and wiped at tears that were still lightly forming in his eyes, despite the neutral expression on his face. "Well, based on the rules I established when he first got here I'd say that he should be punished for using it against me, but given the circumstances, I think we can just let this slide. I truly did deserve it, after all. Those memories were quite painful." Ford frowned. "I'm going down to my room to rest and compose myself further, and to re-evaluate our situation. Make sure Bill eats dinner," Ford added as an after-thought. "Using his powers seems to have drained him." He exited the room once more.

"... Well..." Wendy began. "I honestly don't want to deal with all of this, and I think you guys can handle it from here, so I'm going home now. See you people tomorrow!"

"Don't think I didn't notice how much you slacked off today!" Stan called after the red-head, shaking his fist at her as she ran down the stairs and out the door, tossing a smile over her shoulder as she left. Stan turned back to the younger set of twins. "You kids OK?" He asked. They nodded. "Good, then come eat dinner and take a plate down to Little-Bit."

Dipper and Mabel smiled and did as their Grunkle Stan had commanded.

 **... Friday, June 20** **th** **, 2014 ….**

Wendy, as promised, returned for work the next day, and Stan made her mop the floors as punishment for goofing off for a number of hours the day before. She groaned, but otherwise complied wordlessly. Ford spent most of the day in his room, presumably thinking and resting, and Bill did something similar in the attic. At first he was going to sleep in his cage all day, but Dipper and Mabel promised to hang out quietly in the attic if he went to sleep there on his air mattress. He gave in to the temptations of the comfortable bed and was left snoozing happily.

Dipper, knowing that his sister couldn't be quiet to save her life, convinced her to go have a "girl's day out" with Candy, Grenda, and Pacifica. Candy and Grenda had been at camp or visiting relatives at first, so they'd only arrived in town a few days prior, and Mabel was just DYING to see them; the only reason she hadn't gone to see them before was because she was worried about leaving Bill alone for a whole day so soon after "The Incident" and she figured he wouldn't want to meet her friends yet, so taking him with her wasn't an option.

"It's fine, I'll watch him, and he's probably just going to sleep all day," Dipper had assured her. She had reluctantly agreed and Stan drove her into town, leaving Soos and Wendy to run the Shack.

Dipper spent most of the day reading or working on his new Journal. Bill would wake up occasionally for short periods of time, including for lunch, and Dipper would ask him a few questions about one thing or another for him to record in the Journal. Dipper added notes in the margins, taped in the picture he'd taken of the Friday the Thirteenth Water Demon living in the lake, and added a couple of pages when Bill started talking about random creatures.

Dipper paused in the clicking of his pen at one point and observed Bill as he slept. He'd been healing nicely, no more bruising on his skin could be seen anywhere at this point, and his empty eye socket had healed up, resulting in Stan giving Bill one of his black eye-patches so that Bill wouldn't have to walk around with bandages wrapped around him all the time. Bill also didn't look like he could be blown over in the wind anymore: Still thin, but not entirely unhealthy. He was still pale and looked a bit drained, but a day of rest was doing wonders for him. Even as the day progressed Dipper could tell that he was getting better...

Mabel could tell when she got back to the Shack that evening how much better he was already. Bill had just woken up an hour or so before her return and he'd insisted on cleaning up, taking a shower and changing into fresh clothes. He left the sweater on though, which miraculously never seemed to get dirty anymore. Dipper and Mabel knew why, of course, and they tried hard not to feel uneasy about the fact that, technically speaking, at any given moment the eye on the sweater could start moving again.

Stan made some basic mac-n-cheese for dinner. Mabel was compiling a list of all the yellow foods one could serve (a surprisingly long list) and was planning to have Stan make as many of them as possible. So-far they'd had cheese pizza, the most yellow type of Doritos available, lemon cake, waffles, yellow-frosted donuts, bananas, pineapple, and now yellow cheesy macaroni. Mabel was still working on the list; it was a fun way to pass the time and introduce Bill to more "human foods," as he often dubbed them.

Stan, Dipper, Mabel, and Bill sat peacefully at the dining table just off the TV room. The Shack was closed for the day, Soos had gone home (to his grandmother's, where he still lived mostly because he didn't want to leave his Abuelita alone) and Wendy had hopped in Thompson's van as soon as her shift ended, going off to get into whatever trouble teenagers in a small town could find themselves in on a Friday night.

The time was nearing eight o'clock and dinner was almost done when Ford finally emerged from his room. Ford noticed that Mabel and Dipper had bits of macaroni in their hair as he approached the table, something that had occurred as a result of macaroni being of the perfect thickness and texture for being flung from a spoon. Bill and Stan had, wisely, stayed clear of the launched food stuffs.

Ford didn't comment on the scene as he pulled up a chair. Bill stiffened, but tried to ignore his presence even as Ford was forced to sit between Bill and Stan. Stan handed Ford a bowl of dinner that he'd had prepared and set aside for him: If Ford hadn't come up to eat Stanley would have sent Dipper down to take it to him after dinner.

The five of them finished dinner in relative silence, Bill, Dipper and Mabel still chatting idly as Mabel happily rattled off a list of what she had done while hanging out with her friends that day. Bill _did_ notice that Mabel was also pointedly ignoring Stanford. Dipper... Not so much.

Dipper pulled out his Journal once dinner was finished and he and Ford remained at the table, going over notes and comparing their most recent discoveries while Stan, Mabel and Bill migrated to the recliner in front of the TV.

Bill scoffed internally at the mundane way in which everyone was going about their business. Besides the oddities of what Pine Tree and Six-Fingers were discussing, everything appeared almost normal. Bill absentmindedly lifted his left hand to brush against the smooth black material of the eyepatch Stanley had given him that morning, as if he needed a reminder that half of his eye-sight was now dark. He dropped his hand before anyone else could notice the gesture and stared blankly at the TV, letting his thoughts wander.

Shooting Star was still mad at her Grunkle Ford, that much was clear to Bill, and he appreciated it. He figured that she was just waiting until Bill stopped being so furious himself until she would admit to forgiving her Grunkle, trying to manipulate Bill into trusting her... And, despite Bill's guesses about what her plans could be, Bill had to admit that it was working. Seeing her avoid talking to her Grunkle for his sake _did_ make him feel better; more secure and protected, even if only slightly. Within the next few days he was sure she'd start talking to Old Fordsie again, but for now it was enough that she was restraining...

Bill continued to think, not paying attention to the TV, until the hour of nine o'clock came around. Mabel poked Bill lightly in the side and Bill silently followed her. She wanted him to sleep in the attic, but he refused, taking the key for his cage off the small table it was kept on and locking himself in, key in-hand. Mabel protested for a few minutes longer before leaving him be. She went back upstairs to finish watching Ducktective with her Grunkle Stan.

Bill was almost asleep when he heard someone coming down the stairs, into the basement, heavy but soft footfalls on the creaking wooden boards.

Bill was instantly awake, peering out into the darkness, able to see clearly enough through his still-intact eye despite the lack of light. He watched intently as Ford slowly approached the cage.

When Ford was a mere five feet away Bill spoke up. "Try something Stanford and so help me I'll..." His one luminescent golden eye turned light blue.

Ford stopped approaching and left the distance between them. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to talk." Ford chose to ignore the fact that Bill had just threatened him and didn't move to inflict any punishment for doing so.

Bill glared at him and his eye bled back into its usual golden hue. Brighter, Ford noted, then it had been in the first day immediately following the loss of his other eye. Ford took it as a sign of recovery. "I suppose I can't stop you from running your mouth if you want to. Don't expect any helpful information out of me though."

Ford didn't know it, but Bill was almost more furious about the fact that Ford hurt him so soon after Bill had willingly divulged information about his home, the Nightmare Realm, than he was about Ford's actual actions against him. Bill didn't speak lightly to humans about the Nightmare Realm and dealings that went on there, or the creatures which resided there, and where before he was willing to talk about it a little he was entirely unwilling to do so again now.

Ford nodded. "I'm not fishing for information." He didn't mention that he didn't have to though, seeing as Dipper was still capable of getting Bill to talk, and anything Dipper knew he always shared with his Grunkle Ford. "I... Wanted to make a deal with you."

Bill's eye widened a bit as Ford stepped a few feet closer and sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of Bill's cage. Bill resisted the urge to shrink back. "That's... Interesting," Bill finally managed to get out.

Ford laughed lightly. "Yes, well... I know promises mean nothing to you..."

 _'Of course not, one could easily break a promise just because they_ _ **felt**_ _like it,'_ Bill thought to himself.

"…. So I figured that you might appreciate a deal more than a promise." Bill's lack of response was taken as urging for Ford to continue. "The deal will require some magic on your part. I don't know if you can do it or not; I know a lot of your powers are locked away, but Dipper also expressed to me his theory that your powers can be drawn out through deals, so I'm willing to give it a try if you are."

Bill hummed.

"So here's the deal, and you can either take it or leave it. As long as no one I care about has come to harm, I won't hurt you. I'm also revoking the rule that you aren't allowed to defend yourself. I want to make the deal that if I attempt to do any harm to you while no harm has been brought to my family and no action has been taken against the town, then you can use your powers to inflict the same damage onto me three-fold which I've attempted to inflict onto you. In reverse though, if you try to destroy the town, burn this dimension, or if you bring harm to any of my loved ones, then I'll be able to inflict whatever damage I want onto you without repercussions and without you trying to defend yourself." Bill frowned. "Do we have a deal?" Ford extended his hand.

Bill didn't move to shake it though. On the one hand, it could be beneficial to agree. Ford wouldn't be able to hurt him anymore, or if he did, he'd have to be willing to suffer thrice as badly just to even _attempt_ to inflict whatever pain he wanted to inflict, and Bill would still be able to defend himself and possibly avoid the pain altogether. That would at least make sure that Ford would stop and consider what he was doing before doing it...

On the other hand, though, Bill didn't know what would qualify as "bringing harm to my loved ones". What if he took Pine Tree and Shooting Star out on an adventure and harm befell them? Would that allow Stanford to do whatever he pleased to him, without him trying to defend himself?

 _'Then again, even if I_ _ **did**_ _try to defend myself_ _ **without**_ _this deal in place, Stanford would easily enough be able to overpower any defenses I'm capable of mustering up right now,'_ Bill reasoned with himself. _'And if I ever manage to re-start Weirdmageddon, I'll be powerful enough to break deals again and I won't have to let him stop me; I'll be able to fight back...'_ Honestly, what did he have to lose?

Bill sighed and extended his hand, his eye glowing blue and his left hand coating itself automatically with blue flames. It felt nice, being able to make a proper deal again, flames and all. It was something Bill hadn't been able to do since Weirdmageddon... Then again, he hadn't actually attempted making a proper deal until now.

"Fine, Stanford. I accept your terms. As long as no harm befalls your loved ones, this town, or your dimension by my doing, you can't hurt me."

"And if you _do_ hurt anyone, _you_ can't stop me from punishing you." Again, Bill's resolve waivered, but he ultimately agreed and they shook on it, blue flames coating the two of them briefly before dispersing and leaving them once more in darkness, only faint light filtering through the small basement windows and Bill's luminescent golden eye lighting the basement.

"Do you think it will really work?" Ford asked after a few moments of tense silence.

"…. Are you suggesting we test it out...?" Bill asked nervously.

"Just something small," Ford promised. He pulled his knife out of his inner pocket and Bill instantly jerked away. "Okay... Maybe something _smaller_..." Ford agreed. He'd only wanted to try a thin slice on Bill's finger to see if it would work, but Bill didn't seem at all willing to let Stanford anywhere near him while he was holding a knife.

Ford put the knife away and pulled out a needle instead. Bill still eyed it skeptically, but he held his hand out just the same. Ford pricked the tip of his index finger and dropped the needle with a slightly startled gasp when pain laced through his own hand. He looked down and, sure enough, there was not one, but three pin-points of blood seeping out of Ford's own finger-tip.

"Did you feel a power drain when it reverberated back onto me three-fold?" Ford asked, trying to ensure that Bill wouldn't face a power drain whenever this deal was invoked.

Bill shook his head. "Not a thing. Must come from wherever my powers are being stored. Somewhere not within this pathetic vessel, I'm sure."

Ford nodded and stood, putting the needle away as he went. "Well, I'm glad we've gotten this settled then. Maybe my Great Neice will talk to me now." Bill didn't comment.

Ford hesitated a moment longer before heading towards his room. "I'm sure you'd be alright sleeping in the attic now, if you want. After all, you have an insurance that I won't kill you in your sleep."

 _'I guess technically he could still kill me if he's willing to lose his own life in the process,'_ Bill realized. _'After all, you can't get dead three times over.'_ Bill conveniently ignored the fact that if he died in this moment he would, in fact, be dying for a second time...

Regardless, Bill mumbled something under his breath and stood, unlocking the cage as Ford disappeared into his own room. Bill lifted his mustard-yellow blanket and carried it with him upstairs. Dipper and Mabel were pleased to see him and, after a brief explanation from him of what had just occurred between him and Stanford, they turned off the lights and all three of them fell into an easy restful state.

 **A/N: There you go, an extra super-long chapter for you guys.**

 **=^.^=**


	50. Chapter 48: Napped

**Chapter 48: Napped**

 **A/N: Napped. You know, like, when you take a nap and stuff? Uh-huh, yup, that's it. Just another boring, Bill-sleeping-the-day-away chapter. Totally. No kidding.**

 **...**

 **(0** **ω** **0)**

 **So, um, yeah, enjoy. Or don't because this is going to be** _ **totally**_ **boring because it's NOT time for the next big story arc yet... *Wink-Wink***

… **. Saturday, June 21** **st** **, 2014 …. 9:30 AM ….**

Stan frowned as Soos held his phone up for him to see. Stan squinted at it before groaning and throwing his hands in the air. "Soos, I can't read whatever tiny words are on your little hand-device or whatever! Especially not if you're shoving it in my face."

Soos laughed. "Oh, yeah, right, sorry Stan. I forget you're, like, old and stuff sometimes." Stan glared at him a little and Soos gulped before quickly turning his phone around and looking at the screen himself. "I'll just read it out loud for you."

"So, it's like, a text message from Wendy that she sent me a few minutes ago. She said _Hey, tell Mr. Pines that I won't be coming in for work today. My dad got totally mad at me for staying out late with my friends last night, which is weird because he's never cared or gotten me in trouble for it before. Anyway, he grounded me and said I have to stay home for the next couple of days and he took my phone. He just barely let me text you about why I'm not at work and when I asked him why I can't at least go to work he said that I_ _ **especially**_ _can't go to work. I think something's up, he's being a total annoying old dude for some reason, but that's why I'm not gonna be at work today or tomorrow."_ Soos said all of this rather slowly, having to de-code various bits of text-lingo as he read and convert it into something Stanley (or the average reader) could understand.

"And then there's like a whole bunch of angry and weird emojis," Soos concluded, typing on his phone. "I'ma just tell her not to worry about it, alright Mr. Pines?"

Stan nodded. "Yeah, I guess, whatever. I'll tell Ford to go hide himself away in his lab for the day so that he'll be out of the way an' I'll have the kids and Short-Stack work in the shop to make up for Wendy's absence."

Soos nodded his consent and walked away, still texting a response to Wendy as he went. Stan headed for the kitchen.

Dipper, Mabel, Bill, and Stanford were there, eating breakfast as usual. Bill, Dipper, and Mabel all sat at the kitchen table eating cereal while Ford, in an attempt to give Bill his space despite the agreement they'd come to, stood at the counter and half-mindedly ate while reading a science-geek magazine.

"You, Poindexter," Stan said, pointing at his brother. Ford stopped and looked at him, a spoonful of frosted flakes half-way to his mouth. "As soon as you're done stuffin' your face go play out in the woods or down in your lab or somethin'. Just stay out of the way today."

Ford frowned. "I thought I was banned from using the lab."

"Well, consider yourself unbanned," Stan said. He pointed at Bill. "You got a problem with that?" He didn't ask in a challenging tone, but rather in a truly inquiring tone, wondering if Bill was really okay with this. "I just figure it's better to have him out of the way instead of runnin' amuck in the Shack while you're working at the register. Or would you prefer him to be working while you're hangin' around?" If Ford didn't appreciate Stan's ideas about "getting him out of the way," he didn't let it show.

Honestly, Bill could see the logic in this idea. Returning Stanford's lab rights meant he wouldn't have to see the old man as often, especially since Bill highly doubted that Pine Tree or Shooting Star would even _think_ of asking Bill to go work in the lab again any time soon.

Bill nodded his consent. "I don't care what he does." _'As long as I don't have to deal with him,'_ Bill thought to himself.

Stan nodded. "Good, then Ford, you hang out in the lab today or go explore somethin' away from the Shack. Dipper, Mabel, Bill, I want you guys workin' in the Shack today. Saturdays are always busier, and Wendy's stuck at home cuz her old pop grounded her, so you're pickin' up the slack." Dipper and Mabel looked cheerful at this prospect while Bill looked simply un-dispositioned.

"Wait, wait, wait," Bill spoke up suddenly. "Corduroy is _grounded_? I've seen her chop down a tree that tilted and landed smack-dab in the center of her house, destroying the roof, and her dad just _laughed_ and clapped her on the back! How'd she get into trouble with her hulk of a danger-loving father? Did she insult the lumberjack profession or something?" Bill, the ever-watchful and curious being that he was, could instantly spot when something was amiss.

"Stayed out too late last night or somethin', I don't know," Stan said, waving off Bill's concern.

"Well, I hope she isn't in too much trouble," Dipper said.

"Worried about your _giirrrllfriennndd_?" Mabel teased, elbowing Dipper in the side.

"Mabel! She-she's not my girlfriend!" Dipper blushed.

Bill squinted down at the kitchen table even as Stan and Ford departed and Dipper and Mabel began clearing away the dishes.

"Bill, come on, we've gotta go work in the gift shop!" Mabel said cheerfully, pulling him up out of his seat gently by his arm. Bill shook his head to rid it of persistent thoughts. _'I'm sure it's nothing,'_ he told himself.

Several hours passed, Mabel moving around the shop happily and encouraging people to buy things while Bill manned the cash register and Dipper preformed various chores, including re-stocking items. Soos and Stan took turns guiding tour groups every fifteen minutes.

"This way," Stan had said, "we can do twice as many tours and in smaller groups! Double the profits with two Men of Mystery!" Soos would still occasionally, when there weren't a lot of people about, have Stan do all the tours while Soos himself preformed the usual handyman chores. Being the more-than-half-owner of the Mystery Shack hadn't taken away Soos' work ethic and he never viewed himself as being above the usual mundane tasks that needed to get done around the Shack. He actually enjoyed fixing things and keeping up with his handyman knowledge. Currently, he was working on fixing some hazardous wiring on the roof.

Dipper, Mabel, and Bill had lunch around one o'clock, a basic meal of corndogs that could be eaten while work was being done. Yet another way that Stan thought they could "maximize revenue".

Bill sighed. He glanced at the clock hanging on one of the Shack walls. It read "4:44 PM" in analog time. Only another forty-five minutes or so until the Shack would close for the day. Bill was bored, and looking forward to being able to stop work for the day. He didn't exactly enjoy having to smile at every tourist that came and went, though it was nice to be able to subtly manipulate them into buying more. Or, for the dumb ones, he would give them back improper amounts of change, like by giving them two dimes when they should have gotten a quarter. Simple things like that which reminded Bill of the good old days and which he enjoyed doing, though he personally couldn't care less about making money for Old Man Fez.

Stan walked in the room and dropped a couple of black trash-bags on the floor in front of the register's counter. Bill looked up at him, his chin resting against the countertop, golden eye peering up at the old man.

"Take these bags out to the trash, will ya? I've got another tour to lead, Soos is still on the roof, Dipper's on a supply run into town on the golf cart, and Mabel is, well..." They both looked over at Mabel, who had a group of tourists around her chanting "Stuff! Stuff! Stuff!" as she shoved cotton up her nose.

Bill shrugged and stood from the counter. "Yeah, sure." Stan left to direct the next tour group and Bill carried (or really dragged, since they were too heavy) the bags out back to where Stanley kept a few big silver trash bins.

Stan, not being the type to waste money on paying a garbage company, always put all of the trash for the Shack into four large metal trash bins and, once those were full, he'd either load them up in Soos' truck or he'd stuff two of them into his own car and tie the other two to the roof. He'd then proceed to take them into town and would illegally dump his trash into one of the larger trash bins that could be found behind various stores or restaurants in town *****. Bill smirked as he thought about this, lifting the shiny metal lid off of one of the bins and putting a bag in.

Bill reached down to grab the second bag... But was surprised when a metal ring clamped around his wrist. He looked up, eye wide... _'I didn't even notice anyone approaching!'_ …. And a cloth was smothered against his face, covering his nose and mouth. He tried not to breathe, but as startled as he'd been he couldn't help but suck in a gasp of air. He instantly became light-headed, but he didn't pass out.

 _'They used too little,'_ Bill thought to himself as he was lifted, his hands were cuffed behind his back, and he was placed into the back seat of a car. He could barely keep his eye open, and his vision was blurry. _'Honestly, I'd prefer they use too little over using too much. Chloroform is so easy to overdose on. It kills people, especially young people, if too much is used.'_ Even as Bill thought this he could hardly register where he was or what position he was in. His hands were cuffed... He was laying down in a back seat... And looking up, he could see metal bars and glass separating him from the front passengers. He managed to turn his head upwards and could see that the back doors didn't have inner door handles.

 _'A police car, then,'_ he concluded.

… **.**

Soos took out one of his earphones and peered down over the edge of the Mystery Shack's roof, down at the metal trash bins bellow him. One of them had been knocked over and a couple of bags were on the ground. Soos supposed that that's what had caused the sound which he heard, and which had inclined him to look down over the edge. Soos shrugged, seeing nothing else out of the ordinary, and went back to work on the roof.

… **.**

Stanford stopped, dead in his tracks, eyes going wide as he peered towards the Mystery Shack. He was on his way back from a stroll in the woods, out looking for trouble, as usual. Trouble, as it turns out, was what he found upon his return to the Mystery Shack. He'd arrived just in time to see Bill being set in the back of a police car. Snapping out of his stunned state in a moment, Ford took off running. The car pulled out of the Mystery Shack's parking lot and began down the dirt road, but that didn't deter Ford in the slightest. He kept running and pulled out his ray gun. He considered firing, but hesitated.

 _'Bill's in the back seat. If they swerve, or I miss, I could kill him.'_ Ford growled and shoved his deadly device back into his inner coat pocket and he kept running. _'I wish I had my magnet gun on me!'_

… **.**

Dipper was driving the golf cart, on the way back from a trip into town. Stan had sent him to pick up some thick metal wiring he'd ordered that was to be used for making more attractions for the Mystery Shack. The golf cart bounced along down the dirt road, the heavy bundles of wire stored in the back.

Dipper watched as a police car passed him on the road. Deputy Durland's and Sheriff Blub's car, no doubt, since they were pretty much the only officers in town. Dipper didn't think twice about the car, since he didn't see anyone (his Grunkle Stan came to mind) in the back seat.

Dipper _did_ think twice when he saw his Grunkle Ford less than a minute later sprinting after the car. "Follow that police car!" Ford called as he approached. Dipper instantly complied and turned the golf cart around, pressing the gas pedal down as far as it would go. Ford caught up to him and jumped on the moving cart, trying to catch his breath. Dipper could see the police car a ways off, the distance between them steadily increasing.

"Grunkle Ford, what's going on?" Dipper asked. Ford didn't respond. Instead he glared at the car in front of them. They weren't speeding: They were going exactly the speed limit, if not a bit under, as far as Ford could tell. That meant they hadn't noticed they were being followed yet.

"They're getting away! Can't this thing go any faster?" Ford asked. "Didn't' you and Mabel outrun the giant Gnome in this thing?"

Dipper nodded. "Well, yeah, but we've got extra weight. Grunkle Stan's wire is in the back..." Dipper pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at the coils of metal wire.

To Dipper's surprise, Ford climbed to the back of the golf cart, undid the back latch, and kicked the heavy bundles out. Dipper's eyes widened a bit, but he didn't let up on the gas, and the golf cart sped up considerably without the three-hundred or so extra pounds of weight.

Ford climbed back into the passenger's seat and looked ahead. "We're gaining on them!" He said triumphantly.

"Grunkle Ford, what's going on?!" Dipper asked again, and was once more ignored as Ford pulled out his flip-phone and dialed Soos' number. Stanley had refused to get a phone, but Ford got one before they left on their trip around the world, just in case they ever needed to contact anyone. And as smart as Ford was, he'd had no problem learning how to use the newer technology, despite his age.

Soos picked up after the second ring. "Mr. Pines? What's up dude? You, like, never call me!" Soos said cheerily.

"Soos, listen. I need you to close the shop now. Just, drop everything, grab Stan and Mabel, get in the car, and start driving towards town. See if you can get ahold of Wendy too."

"Sure thing Mr. Pines. But what's the emergency?"

"Bill's been... I don't know... Kidnapped or something," Ford supplied, "and I've got a bad feeling about it. Just hurry up and get into town." Ford hung up.

"They've got Bill?!" Dipper asked, looking ahead at the police car once more, which they were still steadily gaining on.

Ford nodded. "And something tells me they don't just want to ask him a few questions."

 ***What? Haha, no, I TOTALLY don't dump my trash in a big trash bin illegally behind some large chain department store near my house so that I don't have to pay a garbage company to come pick up trash... (O.o) Lol.**


	51. Chapter 49: Jailed

**Chapter 49: Jailed**

 **A/N: Yes, the notorious warning that hasn't made an appearance for several chapters... Warning for violence and/or possible child abuse (depends on whether you count Bill as a child or not).**

 **That's never a good sign at the beginning of a chapter, is it? Or perhaps, for some of you, it's a great sign...**

 **Anyway... Enjoy...?**

Bill tried his best to clear the fuzziness swimming through his mind, but it was a difficult task that seemed rather counter-intuitive. The more he tried to concentrate, the more his head hurt, and ergo, the less he could concentrate.

After a few minutes had passed Bill was finally able to focus enough to move his limbs in some resemblance of coordinated movement. He managed to sit himself up-right in the back seat of the police car. He had to shut his eye for a moment as his head swam due to the movement, but after a few more moments he was able to open it again.

Through his blurry vision he was just able to make out the silhouettes of a large figure in the driver's seat and a smaller figure in the passenger's seat. Through the closed tinted window separating the front and back seats, silhouettes were all he could manage to see.

 _'Durland and Blubs?'_ Bill wondered. It must be, since he was in a cop car, right? And they were the only officers in all of Gravity Falls, last he checked.

Bill cleared his throat. "Umm... Excuse me? I don't feel so good," he said in as innocent and childish a voice as he could muster. "Hello? Sirs? Am I in trouble for something? I promise to be good, honest!" Blubs and Durland always struck him as complete morons: Maybe he could convince them that a mistake had been made and they would let him go...

Only, when the tinted glass separating him from the front passengers was slid away, the two people before him were _not_ Blubs and Durland.

"Come on now, Billy. You know that sugar-talkin' ain't gonna work on Little Ol' Me."

Bill's eye widened in fear.

"By the way, last I saw you, didn't you have _two_ eyes?"

… **.**

Mabel was _furious._ She was upset, clearly, and not at all in the mood for playing games. As soon as Soos had run in the Shack saying Bill had been kidnapped she'd snatched up her trusty grappling hook, snorted out the cotton she'd had stuffed up her nose, and had run outside.

"Hurry up, start the car, let's go!" Mabel urged as Stan climbed in the Stanley-Mobile and started it up, Soos hopping into his truck right behind them.

"I'm goin' Sweetie. Just buckle up!" Mabel had already done so and, with a screeching of tires accompanied by the kicking up of gravel, they were off, speeding down the road as fast as Stan was willing to take them, Soos not far behind.

Soos made a call to Wendy, but she didn't answer. Instead it was her father who picked up.

"HELLO?!" The lumberjack bellowed into the phone.

"Oh, uh, Mr. Corduroy? Is Wendy there? I totes have to talk to her for a minute, it's supes important!" Soos said.

"NO!" Was the simple response, followed by the sound of crumbling gadgetry. Soos pressed "end call" on his phone, despite the fact that he was sure Wendy's phone had already been crushed in her father's hand. Soos frowned and sped up, continuing to follow behind Stan and Mabel as they raced towards town.

… **.**

Bill frowned, not entirely sure of what he should do. He smiled again.

"Hey, aren't you a friend of Sh-uh, of Mabel and Dipper's?" He asked in his continued childish voice.

"Oh, you mean of Shootin' Star, my precious Lil' Pumpkin?" Gideon asked in an equally childish voice and with a puffy-cheeked smile on his face. A millisecond later he dropped the act and his face turned red and angry. "I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, DEMON, SO DROP THE ACT!" He screeched, making Bill frown and lean away.

"Remember your breathing exercises," Ghost-Eyes reminded gently from the driver's seat, earning him a heavy and red-faced glare.

"You're as annoying as ever," Bill said, complying with Gideon's demand to "drop the act".

Bill smirked. "And, my, have you gained weight since the last time I saw you?" Bill knew that he shouldn't be antagonizing his kidnapper but, well, he just couldn't help himself.

Gideon looked positively _livid_ for a moment before he took a deep breath, put his hands together in front of him, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, there was a sickeningly-sweet smile on his face.

"Oh, Little Demon, you _really_ shouldn't be teasin' me right now," Gideon warned with a smile, gesturing to Bill, who still had his hands cuffed behind his back and who looked pale as a result of the use of Chloroform. "But, then again, I guess it doesn't matter what ya do. Your fate is _sealed_ ," he said.

Bill smirked, despite the worry-line that creased his brow. "My, my, my! What would _Shooting Star_ think about all this? You know, she's grown _quite_ fond of me."

"I'm sure she'll get over the loss of one of her _pets_ sooner or later," Gideon retaliated. "Besides, the way I see it, I'm savin' her from the likes of yo-" Gideon cut off his sentence and leaned towards Bill, squinting out the back window. "What the..."

Bill turned his head to see what Gideon was staring so intently at. Following a mere ten meters behind them were Pine Tree and IQ on the golf cart. Bill smirked.

"You see? The Pines are here to _help_ me this time. They're quite worthy opponents, I'm sure you know. This will all end badly for you unless you turn me back over to them _right now,_ " Bill threatened with the darkest glare he could manage.

Gideon ignored him, instead calling out to his henchman. Ghost-Eyes looked in the rear-view mirror to see what his boss wanted and noticed the golf cart behind them. He pressed the gas.

"No," Gideon objected. "Let em' get a little closer." Gideon smirked and Ghost-Eyes did as he was told.

Ford climbed on top of the golf cart as they neared the car, preparing to jump. Just as he was about to leap, Gideon motioned for Ghost-Eyes to hit the breaks and the cop car's red back break lights flashed. Dipper reacted, slamming on the breaks as well and swerving to the side. Ford held onto the golf cart's roof a moment longer and, as Dipper ended up next to the police car, he saw his chance and jumped, landing on top of the car. He grasped the red and blue lights on top and held on.

Ghost-Eyes tried to run Dipper off the road and Dipper, realizing that he couldn't play bumper-cars with a real car while he was in a golf cart, slowed down until he was a safe distance behind the squad car, just as they passed into town and small buildings and houses began to spring up around them.

A few of the townsfolk came out of their homes and establishments to see what the commotion was as the police car came to a stop in the center of town, right outside the police station. Ford rolled off the front, pulling out his ray gun and landing in front of the car, pointing his gun at the driver.

"Hand him over!" Ford demanded.

Gideon laughed from the front passenger seat and lifted his arms. Ghost-Eyes reached over and picked Gideon up, setting him on his shoulders as he stepped out of the car. A half-dozen of Gideon's other prison henchmen approached as Dipper stopped the golf cart behind them.

"Why Stanford, would you really _kill_ to save this here demon?" Gideon said, motioning to Bill, who had just been dragged out of the back seat by a few of Gideon's ex-prison mates.

Ford didn't drop his gun or his stance, despite the fact that he knew that, no, he wouldn't kill to save Bill...

Gideon motioned with his hand to a couple of his henchmen and Bill was shoved roughly to the asphalt; a sharp kick delivered to his stomach a moment later had him gasping for breath. Ford tensed, but didn't fire his gun. _'I wish I didn't carry mostly only lethal weapons on me!'_ Ford thought, but honestly, most of the creatures in Gravity Falls couldn't be even slightly damaged with anything less than what would be lethal force to a human. Ford didn't make a habit of carrying weapons around which were to be used specifically for fighting regular people... That was his brother's forte.

Ford glared, growled, and then tucked his gun away, back into his inner coat pocket. He brought out his knife. "I won't kill to save him, but I will fight you," Ford said sternly. "Let him go, weird little boy, before things get messy."

Gideon paid him no mind. Instead he had Ghost-Eyes turn around to face Bill and the other henchmen. "You two!" Gideon said, pointing to a couple of the ex-inmates. "Take him inside!" They complied, grabbing Bill by his arms and forcing him to stand before shoving him towards the police station. Bill stumbled, but managed to stay upright as he allowed them to escort him inside.

Dipper tried to stop them, at one point attempting to run over the one who'd kicked Bill with the golf cart, but he'd easily been pulled out of the driver's seat by one of the full-grown men.

"Put him down!" Ford demanded, pulling back out his ray-gun in an instant. "Him I _will_ kill for," Ford said, dead-serious.

"But of course," Gideon said, and Dipper was released, stumbling to the ground in front of his Grunkle Ford. "I'm not the bad guy here! I don't wanna hurt any of you Pines. I just wanna make sure that demon gets what's comin' to him!" A few of the townspeople who had gathered voiced their consent.

Ford looked around for the first time and noticed that none of the townspeople who had gathered seemed confused. They all seemed angry, perhaps scared, and some looked just about ready for a fight. "So I see the secret's out," Ford said.

"That's right," Gideon confirmed. "Of course I wouldn't keep a secret like this one from the town! I've learned my lesson, no more secrets!" Gideon said, winking at the townspeople, who smiled at him, trusting him. "I've got permission from the Mayor to do what I'm doin'! What'd you think I _stole_ this here police car?" Gideon asked. "I'm in the right here, Stanford. Can you say the same?" Ford frowned.

"Don't listen to him!" Dipper spoke up, speaking not only to his Grunkle Ford, but to the town in general. "I know things seem crazy, and that you're all scared and hate Bill, but none of this is what it looks like! You're making a mistake!" Dipper insisted.

"We're doin' what needs to be done!" Gideon argued. "You Pines are just too weak to see it! Too goody-two-shoes to realize that sometimes you can't save the day with kittens and hugs and sprinkles! Bad guys need to be _**PUNISHED**_!Just like I was! And Bill Cipher? He needs to die for what he's done!" A few of the townspeople nodded their consent while others remained nervously silent. "And come midnight tonight, that demon's gonna get what he deserves!" Again, a general voicing of consent.

"We'll stop you," Ford said calmly. "You won't get away with this."

"No one's gettin' away with anythin'. That's kinda the point, isn't it?" Gideon asked calmly, as if Ford had just said something incredibly stupid. "Just be glad we don' look to punish you Pines for housin' him all this time. The town still owes you for savin' it, and you were just doin' what you thought was right, I'm sure, but don't go pushin' your luck now, ya hear?" Gideon waved his hand and the townspeople began to disperse. "I assume we'll be seein' you Pines later on tonight," Gideon said as he and Ghost-Eyes disappeared into the police station. Dipper made as if to follow, but his path was blocked by Gideon's goons, who guarded the station like sentries.

Stan, Soos, and Mabel pulled up in the center of town moments later.

"What's going on, where's Bill, whose butt do I have to kick?!" Mabel demanded as she hopped out of the car before it was even in park, brandishing her grappling hook like a gun.

"It's Gideon," Dipper said, coming over to his sister. "He's got Bill in the police station. I... I think they're going to kill him at midnight tonight."

Mabel blanched. "What? No! They can't!" She demanded. "I'll stop them!"

"Mabel, he's got the whole town on his side!" Dipper protested. "What do you expect us to do?"

Mabel frowned. "I'll go talk to him," she said. "He'll definitely talk to me, right?"

"Nu-uh, no way! I'm not lettin' you go in there alone with a bunch of thugs and that lunatic baby-man!" Stan refuted. "Not _my_ Great Niece!"

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel protested. "I've got to do _something,_ and I might be the _only_ person Gideon will talk to right now! Besides, he's made a lot of progress since last summer! He's really not so bad anymore, usually... I just need to explain to him why what he's doing is wrong! He'll listen to me, won't he? _Please_ Grunkle Stan? _Pleeaassee?_ "

Stan hummed. "I... Guess... But only if your brother goes with you. If Gideon's gonna be willing to talk to you, he's gotta be willin' to talk to you with your brother around as an escort, or else I won't allow it."

"Deal!" Mabel said. "Come on Dipper, let's go!" She grabbed her brother by the arm and pulled him towards the station.

The ex-convicts stationed in front of the police station's front doors held their hands up. "Hang on! No one goes in withou' the boss' approval!" One of them said.

"I'm Mabel, Gideon's, uh... _Girlfriend..."_ Mabel almost choked on the word.

"Well, yeah, of course we know who you are," one of the convicts said.

"Should we let her in?" Asked the other. They both shrugged and reluctantly stepped aside. Mabel raced in, pulling Dipper as she went.

… **.**

Bill didn't struggle or resist as he was forced into the police station, his side still throbbing from where he'd been kicked. He was walked inside, Durland and Blubs watching him as he was marched past them with fear written all over their faces. He was taken down a back hallway where the temporary holding cells were and was thrown into the center of the three cells. There was no one else in the other two cells.

A few minutes later, Gideon strode in. Or, more specifically, he was carried in on Ghost-Eyes' shoulders. Gideon snapped, and Ghost-Eyes lifted him off of his shoulders and set him down on the ground. Gideon approached the cage Bill had just been thrown into and, with another snap of his fingers, the cage door was opened.

Bill stood and backed away to the wall furthest from the little creep.

"What's the matter? Not so talkative now that there's nothin' separatin' the two of us?"

"I could still take you down with my hands cuffed behind my back," Bill said with a glare. Gideon was, after all, still shorter than him.

"Don't go underestimatin' me now, Cipher," Gideon warned before smiling brightly. "Besides, I don't have ta fight ya to hurt ya." Gideon motioned with his fingers and two of his henchmen stepped into the cell. Bill shirked back further, frowning but refusing to cower in fear. One of the henchmen grabbed him by his golden hair and shoved him down, forcing him to kneel and then to press his face to the stone floor. Bill struggled at first, but soon gave in and peered up at Gideon.

"Don't feel so tall now, do ya?" Gideon asked with an annoyingly high-pitched little evil chuckle.

"I don't need to feel tall," Bill responded, trying to breathe despite his current position hunched over on the ground. "I'm fine with being short and powerful. By the looks of your over-done hair-do, I'm guessing you don't feel the same. Overcompensating just a tad too much, don't you think, Farquad?"

Bill was suddenly jerked backwards and his head was slammed against the concrete wall behind him, making him let out an involuntary whimper in pain. The hand in his hair let go and he fell to the ground, barely forcing himself to remain conscious for the second time that day. All at once, with the pain coursing through him and the dizziness in his head, Bill remembered to be afraid. He curled in on himself instinctually.

"Now what was it you were sayin'?" Gideon asked, and Bill didn't respond, averting his gaze. Gideon frowned and kicked at him, but Bill only curled in on himself tighter, refusing to fight back. "Looks like someone's already taught ya how to behave at least a little. Stanford, I assume," Gideon said with another creepy childish chuckle. "Let's see how well you've been trained. Get up."

Bill frowned, but complied, moving until he was sitting up, kneeling in front of Gideon.

"Good," Gideon said gleefully. "Now, kiss my shoe." Gideon stuck out his left foot, revealing his little brown leather cowboy boot.

Bill glanced down at it before looking pointedly away. Otherwise, he made no movement. No matter how afraid he was, and despite any pain Gideon would cause him, he wasn't about to let go of the last amounts of pride he held on to. Not for anything.

The instant response was a slap to the right side of his face, delivered by one of Gideon's men. Which one, Bill didn't look up to see, and he honestly didn't care at this point.

"Now, don't tell me you're willin' to die over this, Cipher," Gideon taunted.

"You're going to kill me tonight anyway. Nothing I do here will change that," Bill responded quietly.

Gideon laughed and nodded his fat little head. "Yeah, I suppose tha's true, Bill. But you sure can make thin's a lot easier on yourself. You made me do all sorts of embarrassin' dances for you, so it's only fair I make you do this now."

"You do plenty of embarrassing dances whether or not I'm forcing you to do them," Bill refuted. This only served to earn him another slap, this time causing him to topple over onto the ground.

"Demon, I swear, if you-" Gideon was interrupted by one of his henchmen.

"Boss, Miss Mabel and her brother are here to talk to you," they said.

"Can't you see that I'm In The MIDDLE OF SOMETHIN' HERE?!" Gideon screamed. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine, fine, anythin' for my Sugar-Pie Mabel. You two!" He pointed at the two who were still in Bill's cell. "Teach him a lesson or two while I'm gone." Bill shivered as Gideon departed, his little legs carrying him towards the front of the station, Ghost-Eyes following right behind him.

Bill tried not to scream when a kick to his side resulted in the sharp _snapping_ sound of a broken rib.

 **A/N: Well, I hope you, um...** _ **Enjoyed?**_ **I guess.…?**

 **Anyway, reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, Buy Gold, BYE~!**


	52. Chapter 50: Something Wicked

**Chapter 50: Something Wicked**

 **A/N: Before we begin, I'd like to give a special thanks to** _ **PippyTheBest**_ **for leaving my 500** **th** **review! This story officially has over 500 reviews, over 100 each followers and favorites, over 50,000 views, and with this, the 50** **th** **chapter, we're passing the 150,000 words mark.**

 **Wow. Don't those numbers just fall together so nicely? Perfection!**

 **Thank you to everyone, guest and logged in alike, for reading, reviewing, and loving this story so much! You all make it much easier for me to continue writing this story with the same excitement and passion I had when I first started it, despite the fact that it's already been nine months since this story's creation! I won't say that this story would just end if you didn't show your support, but…. Honestly, that would be a possibility. I've no idea what would happen. XD**

 **So anyway, thanks again to all of my readers! Now enjoy the chapter! ;)**

… **.**

Mabel cringed and tears sprung to her eyes when, as she and Dipper were waiting in the lobby of the police station, a sudden and unfortunately familiar scream resounded from the back of the station. Dipper grasped his sister's hand tightly in an attempt to comfort her.

Gideon emerged through a swinging door, his best friend and loyal supporter Ghost-Eyes right behind him. Gideon beamed, despite the tortured sobs that could be heard as the door swung closed behind him.

"Why Mabel," Gideon began, but he didn't get the chance to finish. Before anyone could even think, Mabel had shot forward, raised a fist, and socked him right in the nose with her right hook.

"GIDEON GLEEFUL YOU BETTER STOP HURTING HIM RIGHT NOW OR I WILL **NEVER** LOVE YOU!" She shrieked in complete fury and protectiveness, tears instantly streaming down her face. Everyone both inside and outside the station froze, hearing perfectly clearly her enraged and hurt cry.

Bill wheezed but, despite the pain coursing through him, he couldn't help but smirk.

Gideon was caught completely off guard by how very distraught she was. Even Dipper had never seen her like this: But, then again, Mabel had never had a reason to lash out with the fury of someone defending the defenseless. At least not in the same capacity.

Gideon frowned and looked ready to cry himself. "Oh, dearest Mabel, don't say such things, and don't look at me like that!" Mabel was standing over where he lay on the ground, a look of pure fury and _hurt_ written all over her expression. Gideon stood, his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, alright, just calm down there Mabel. Just hold on a second." Gideon disappeared into the back. Mabel and Dipper could hear him through the door. "Just hold off for a little bit there fellas. Just leave him be for now. Women, am I right guys?" Gideon said to the men in the back guarding Bill before returning to the station's lobby. "Okay Mabel, alright, just calm down there." Gideon wiped his nose, blood coming away on his light blue sleeve. "You really are feisty, my Sweet Peach. And you really mean it; you might maybe learn to love me one day?" Gideon's eyes sparkled, despite the traces of blood still under his nose.

Mabel calmed down a bit and relaxed somewhat, but her shoulders were still tense and she was still very clearly not pleased. "As a friend, Gideon? Maybe, someday. But not if you kill my friend Bill tonight. And he _is_ my friend, Gideon."

Gideon frowned. "Now Mabel, you know I can't just let him go! Even if I wanted to, which I don't," Gideon clarified for his ex-inmate buddies, "the whole town wants this now! Besides Mabel, he's a purely evil dream demon! He's Bill Cipher! Tried to destroy the world and all that? Surely you must understand why I've gotta do this, Sugar. Why, you yourself helped in the effort to kill him just nine months ago!" Gideon said.

"But things have changed since then!" Mabel rebuttaled. "We're trying to help Bill change now, just like we helped you change. You've gotten better, you're not such a bad guy anymore. At least I don't _think_ you are, but if you hurt Bill now then no, I'll go back to thinking you're not just a bad person, but the _worst_ person I've ever met!"

Gideon clutched his chest as if hurt. "Why Mabel, of course I'm not the same as I used to be! But it's because of that that I'm tryin' to do right now! And makin' sure that demon suffers for what he's done is the right thin' ta do! Don't ya see that?"

"You just want to get back at him for humiliating you during Weirdmageddon," Dipper argued. Gideon frowned, indicating that Dipper had hit on a sore subject.

"Listen, I'll agree not to hurt the little devil anymore until tonight to keep you from lookin' so upset again, my precious Mabel, but I can't stop what's comin' anymore and I'm not gonna try ta stop it either."

"Well... Can we at least talk to him?" Mabel asked. "Please, Gideon." She pouted.

"Oh, Mabel, don't look at me like that..." Tears sprung up in Mabel's eyes. "Oh, fine, alright, you can talk to it, but only for a minute! Then I want you ta go on home. No sense in a pretty little lady like yourself seein' the violence that's gonna happen in the square here tonight." Gideon sighed and led the Pines twins towards the back, Dipper following closely behind his sister, looking around as they went.

They all stopped in front of a closed cell that was being guarded by two of Gideon's men. Gideon motioned to them and they stepped aside, opening the cell door. Mabel and Dipper rushed inside, Gideon standing by outside the cell door.

"I just can't refuse my woman, you know Ghost-Eyes?" Ghost-Eyes nodded in understanding. "It's not that I'm weak or anything."

"Even the strongest of men will yield to their gals," Ghost-Eyes assured him. "Ain't no shame in that."

Inside the cell, Mabel rushed to Bill's side while Dipper turned around and stood watch, as if expecting one of Gideon's goons to attack them.

"Bill? Bill?" Mabel shook his shoulder gently. Bill was crumpled on the ground, wheezing in and out breaths, and every time he coughed blood would splatter onto the concrete floor. "Bill, it's okay, we're gonna get you out of here, alright?"

"Thank you, Shooting Star, but I'm not sure there's much you can do..." Bill wheezed out between gasps.

"Us Pines can do anything, and don't you forget it mister!" Mabel said, trying to sound confident.

"I don't think your Grunkle Ford will be doing too much to try and help save me," Bill refuted, "and he's by far the strongest among you." This was, after all, Stanford's perfect opportunity to get rid of him. All he had to do was sit back and let Bill be killed, no strings attached.

"He'll help if I ask him to help," Mabel argued. "Besides, I think he's finally starting to get used to you. None of us want you to die, Bill. Especially not like this."

Bill shook his head minutely, but didn't speak.

"C'mon Mabel, time to go," Gideon said from right outside the cell.

"Just give her a minute man! I mean, come on! Be cool!" Dipper said, crossing his arms and huffing. Gideon turned a little red, but gave her a few moments longer.

"I promise we'll save you, okay Bill? Just don't make things worse," Mabel concluded, wiping some of his tears off his face and dabbing at a cut near his eye. "We'll have you home by tomorrow morning."

"Out," Gideon ordered. Dipper looked like he was ready to fight over it, but Mabel stood and put a hand on her brother's shoulder to stop him. With one last glance at the blond trembling form on the floor, Dipper and Mabel departed.

Stan, Ford, and Soos instantly approached as Dipper and Mabel exited the station.

"They're gonna kill him tonight if we don't do something," Mabel said, tears in her eyes.

"It's alright Mabel, we'll come up with something," Dipper promised. Mabel nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes with her non-bloody sweater sleeve. A look of determination came over her.

"Yeah, I know. We'll save him. We've _got_ to! He was finally making progress!" Mabel said. The others nodded.

"We've got like six hours to come up with something," Stan said, looking at his watch. "That's plenty of time! Especially since we've got you two kids, Soos, me, and Poindexter here to help!" Ford frowned. "Between the five of us nothin's impossible!"

Ford hummed and stepped away from the group a bit. He looked over at the police station.

"Yeah, I was paying attention to every detail while we were in there," Dipper said. "I know exactly where Bill's cell is. We can break through from the outside! Or sneak in and bust him out! Or maybe we can..." Dipper's voice trailed off when Ford began walking over towards the police station. "Grunkle Ford?"

"Tell your little boss that I want to talk to him," Ford said to the sentries. They looked at each other before one of them stepped inside.

"Grunkle Ford, what are you doing?" Mabel asked. "'Cuz I already socked Gideon in the nose, if that's what you wanna do." Ford didn't respond.

Gideon came outside, riding on Ghost-Eyes' shoulders. "What do you want, old man?"

"... I want to help you kill Bill Cipher." The other Pines, and Soos, gasped.

"Why should I believe you?" Gideon asked, narrowing his eyes skeptically.

"I'm sure you noticed by now that Bill's one eye down. Don't you want to know how that happened?" Gideon nodded and waited for him to continue. "I stabbed him."

Gideon's eyes widened. "Huh, you really are a terse old man. But I do believe that of everyone in the town, you must hate him most, and you've probably got the most right of anyone to play a part in makin' sure he doesn't hurt anyone else ever again, so... Alright, fine. You're in. And honestly, havin' you on my side is better than havin' you against me, old timer, so how can I refuse?" Gideon motioned for him to follow and Stanford wordlessly proceeded into the station.

Stan, Dipper, Soos, and Mabel all stared after him with wide eyes. Tears sprung up in Mabel's eyes.

"Well... I guess we're goin' home then," Stan said quietly.

 **A/N: Thanks again to all my readers for your continued support, and remember! Reviews=Love, Reality=Illusion, Universe=Hologram, Buy Gold, BYE~!**


	53. Chapter 51: Let's Kill Tonight

**Chapter 51: Let's Kill Tonight**

 **A/N: Listening to "Panic! At the Disco" while struggling, trying to figure out what to title this chapter. As you can see, I finally decided on a title. XD**

 _ **Mild**_ **warning for violence and sort-of child abuse (depends on whether you consider Bill to be a child or not).**

The ride back to the Mystery Shack was quiet and sorrowful. How could Stanford betray them like this?! Of course, Mabel also understood that he thought he was doing what was best for them... But still, how could he do this?!

Dipper didn't say anything to comfort his sister, a deep look of concentration on his face the whole ride back to the Shack.

When they arrived at the Shack, Dipper finally spoke up. "Listen, just because Ford left us doesn't mean we can't save Bill ourselves!"

"How?" Stan asked. "It's too dangerous, and I don't want you kids goin' anywhere near whatever sick thing they have planned for tonight!"

"But we have to do something!" Mabel defended. "And Dipper is right; we've done plenty of great things without Ford's help! We don't need him!" She said furiously. "We're unstoppable all on our own! And don't you forget Grunkle Stan that it was _you_ who defeated Bill during Weirdmageddon, _not_ that traitor!" Stan didn't know if he wanted to cringe or blush.

"And..." Dipper added, pointing a finger at the roof as if to make a point and pausing dramatically, "I have a plan!"

Mabel smiled. "See?! If Dipper's got a plan then there's no way we'll lose!"

"I don't know..." Stan persisted, concerned of letting the kids go near what may end up being an execution. It wasn't that he wanted to give up and let Bill die or anything, or even necessarily that he thought they couldn't do it, but the whole situation felt as if something could easily go wrong and the kids would then be haunted for life. If they didn't succeed in saving Bill, his Great Neice and Nephew would be pinned with the same guilt Stanley himself dealt with following the event where he lost his brother to that portal over thirty years ago. Questions of _"what could I have done differently?"_ Stan knew by experience that those were the hardest questions to shake...

"C'mon Mr. Pines, we've gotta at least try. If not for the little dude, then for us," Soos said, kneeling between Mabel and Dipper, wrapping an arm over each of their shoulders. The three of them looked to the older man pleadingly.

 _'I can't very well stop them from trying, can I? They'd hate me forever, which wouldn't leave them any better off than if they tried and failed...'_ Stan groaned. There was still a chance they'd succeed, right? So what kind of caretaker would he be if he didn't at least let them try? "Oh... Fine, fine! We'll see. But before I agree to anythin', Dipper! What's your plan kid?"

Dipper smiled. "Okay, here it is..."

… **. Saturday, June 21** **st** **, 2014 ... 11:55 PM ….**

Bill shivered as the door to his cell was slid open with a bone-chilling creak. Gideon walked in with Ghost-Eyes and _Stanford_ at his side. _'Of_ _ **course**_ _,'_ Bill thought. _'This is the perfect opportunity for him. All he has do to is stand by and watch as this albino baby-man kills me and he's free of me.'_ Stanford wouldn't, after all, face any repercussions because of the deal they'd made: As long as he didn't light the fire, didn't kill him directly, Ford was scot-free. It wasn't as if he was causing Bill's death, he was only observing from the sidelines, and the deal _never_ said that Stanford would be responsible for _protecting_ him in the slightest.

Bill smirked mirthlessly. "Now who's the back-stabbing bastard?" Bill asked. "The only difference between us now is that I wasn't stupid enough to ever trust you."

Ford frowned, but didn't respond. Instead he reached forward and grabbed Bill by his arms, pulling him up from the ground. He handed him over to one of Gideon's other goons to be dragged outside.

Bill limped as he was pushed out of the police station. What he saw set up in the middle of town made him go rigid with fear. Gideon's henchman pushed him forward, but Bill pushed back, panic seizing him.

"No..." His voice was barely above a whisper. There, in the center of town, was set up something that Bill hadn't seen used in America for a very, very long time. A large, wooden stake was erected in the center of the street, logs of wood surrounding it, a wooden platform set up above the logs with stairs leading up to it. Bill could see Wendy's father still finishing with putting the logs underneath the platform and around the stake, adding kindling and lighter fluid around in various places to aid with the burning.

Gideon's henchman shoved at him again and this time Bill tripped, knocking him out of his petrified state. Now, he was fighting it.

"No! DON'T!" He pleaded. The pain of being burned alive, suffocating on thick smoke, his flesh melting... "PLEASE, NO!" He struggled, jerking around, trying to break out of the grasp Gideon's henchman had on him. Eventually the ex-con got tired of his struggles and punched him, sending him harshly to the ground. Even still Bill struggled, trying to regain his footing and escape.

"I'll take him," Ford suddenly spoke up, and Bill froze again. Struggling against him, for some reason, was something Bill couldn't force himself to do as Ford lifted him off the ground, a six-fingered hand grasping his upper arm on either side, leading him towards the stake. Bill could feel himself growing light-headed as his breaths came in short, panicked, hyperventilating gasps.

Ford looked around, noting that they were half way between the police station and the stake and there was no one within fifteen feet of them. He leant down and whispered to the trembling form: "It's alright. I won't let them burn you. I promise."

Bill almost forgot how to walk. He stumbled, but Ford gently steadied him, his grasp on Bill's arms sturdy, but not harmful. Supportive. Bill felt tears spring to his eye, but he forced them back, making himself suck in a few deep, steadying breaths before continuing to limp towards the stake. Bill didn't know why he believed Stanford... But he did. His panic eased to a dull thrum in the back of his mind and the future suddenly didn't look so dark and _painful_ anymore. If Stanford truly did help him, then... He'd be okay.

Ford led him up onto the wooden platform, taking off the handcuffs after being handed the key by Sheriff Blubs, and he re-cuffed Bill's hands behind him again, this time with his arms looping around backwards behind the wooden stake. When he clipped the cuffs on they weren't nearly as tight, and Bill appreciated how the cool night air soothed his rubbed-raw wrists.

Ford gave him a quick reassuring pat on his wrist as he pretended to finish restraining him before stepping away, off of the platform. He didn't go far, stopping just a few feet away from the base of the stairs. Bill eyed him out of the corner of his eye, but he made sure to keep his head faced straight forward so as not to attract attention to Ford.

In front of him Bill could see the town's standing clock-post which held the time. It wasn't nearly as extravagant as, say, the one that could be found in the New York Grand Central Station, but it told the time well as it stood tall on its dark-green, old metal post. On it Bill could see that there was a mere two minutes left until midnight, until the fire would be lit and his fate would be left in the hands of Stanford Pines.

Bill scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of the other Pines, but none of them came into view.

"Get on with it!" Someone in the crowd shouted. There was a general sound of consent. Those who looked worried or opposed to what was going on didn't speak out against the more enraged townsfolk.

 _'But it's not time yet!'_ Bill wanted to scream, but he bit his lip, drawing blood, and held it in.

Gideon held up his tiny hands and the crowd fell silent. The short albino looked at his watch. "Well, my _watch_ appears to be off by a minute. Oopsies!" Gideon said, motioning to Wendy's father. Mr. Corduroy lifted a flaming torch and held it high for everyone to see. The crowd cheered. Mayor Cutebiker chanted "get him" without enthusiasm. Bill couldn't help but glance at Stanford, his eye almost pleading for him to take action...

Ford didn't move, but all the same, the flaming torch didn't make it onto the pile of wood. An axe flew through the air, knocking the torch out of Mr. Corduroy's hand before sticking in a nearby telephone pole. Bill, along with the rest of the town, whipped his head sideways to see where the axe had come from.

Wendy stood off to the side, observing the large erected stake and the crowd before her. She looked at her dad. "Really dad? You crushed my phone, grounded me over, like, _nothing,_ and _didn't_ expect me to figure out what was going on?" Wendy groaned. "How many times do I have to tell you that you can't kill my friends!" She motioned widely with her arm to Bill.

"YOU GO HOME!" Her dad ordered. Wendy balled her hands into fists and sucked in a deep breath.

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" Bill winced. She could be _loud_ when she wanted to be.

"GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM!"

"NO!"

Wendy and her father glared at each other. Her dad groaned. "Why don't you LISTEN to me?!" He asked, frustrated.

"I do, when you're not trying to burn my friends!" She retaliated. "Don't make me take you down, old man!" Despite all of his tough talk, Wendy's father had never won a fight against her, especially not when they were seriously fighting in large part because he wasn't willing to hurt his daughter. Roughhousing he could do, but actually physically fighting her? Never.

"Fine," he said, lowering his voice to what was still a scream for most people, but was almost a whisper for him. "We'll _both_ go home," he commanded, not giving any room for argument.

Wendy looked at her dad, then to Bill, and back to her dad again before groaning and nodding her head. "Fiiinnee..." She looked at Bill. "Listen, I'm like, one-hundred percent sure that the Pines will come save you, okay? Otherwise I wouldn't leave." Bill simply stared back at her, so Wendy gave up with an exasperated sigh and began to walk away, her dad following closely behind her.

Gideon had a confused expression on his face. "Ahem," he said in a petite voice, "it really is midnight now. A bit past, actually. So why don't we get this started?" He walked towards the dropped torch, but just as he was reaching to pick it up, a colorful blur sped by, snatching it up and whisking it off down the street.

"I'd say I'm sorry to have to do this, but I'm not!" Mabel's voice pierced the night as she and Dipper sped forward on the golf cart, an army of Gnomes flanking them on either side. She fired her grappling hook, catching Gideon by the hair, and her and Dipper sped off in a different direction, dragging a screaming Gideon behind them as he bounced along on top of a swarm of Gnome bodies.

The Gnomes began to spread out, dividing and conquering. The townsfolk who didn't actually care if Bill burned or not quickly fled to the safety of their homes and cars, but the rest put up a fight.

"Remind me how you two keep convincing us to fight your battles for you!" Jeff said as he hopped up onto the golf cart. Mabel reeled in her grappling hook and tucked a still screaming Gideon under her arm.

"It's not _our_ fight this time! It's for Bill!" Mabel reminded him. Jeff rolled his eyes and bit at a grasping convict's hand as they tried to pull Mabel off the cart.

Dipper pulled the cart to a stop next to the stake, opposite of the side with the stairs, and Mabel handed Gideon over to him, Dipper instantly tying him up and setting him on the seat next to him. Gideon struggled and cursed, but nothing the short boy said or did helped him in the slightest. "I'll go get Bill!" She said, launching her grappling hook towards the top of the stake and pulling herself up onto the platform. She landed near Bill and instantly ran over to him.

"It's good to see you made it, Shooting Star. Cutting it a bit close on time there though, weren't you?"

"Beggars can't be choosers Bill, and besides, you don't look like a burnt Dorito to me!" Mabel said cheekily as she pulled at the handcuffs. "You know, I'd actually kind of expected them to tie you up with rope, so..."

"If they'd done that I would have just used the flames when they tried to burn me to burn away the ropes and I might have escaped!" Bill groaned in exasperation. _'Surely Pine Tree at least thought of this?!'_ But alas, when Mabel shouted down to her brother in inquiry of how she should get the handcuffs off, Dipper had only shrugged and shouted back a "figure it out, I thought they'd use rope!" Dipper then took off in the golf cart again as Ghost-Eyes neared him, trying to get Gideon back in an interesting game of cat-and-mouse.

Mabel looked next to Soos and Stan, who were each busy fighting. Or, more specifically, Stanley was fighting a couple of thugs while Soos provided as much support as he could. "Oh, maybe Soos will have something! I'll be right back!" Mabel said before hopping straight off the front of the platform. Bill cringed, expecting her to stumble on the out-cropping loose logs that stretched out from the platform, but instead a few of the Gnomes scurried by and caught her mosh-pit style before setting her on the ground, allowing her to race off in Soos' direction once again.

"Soos! Soos! Do you have anything to break handcuffs with?" Mabel asked.

"I'd pick 'em, but I'm a little busy," Stan voiced as he punched another one of Gideon's goons in the face. _'Where's that no-good brother of mine when I need him?!'_ He thought to himself.

"I might have something in my truck," Soos said, tripping a nearby attacker.

"Great! Thanks!" Mabel said before rushing to Soos' truck. She looked in the back and found a toolbox. Her eyes instantly went to Soos' own old, faded-handled red screwdriver and Mabel gulped. _'It'll have to do,'_ she thought as she grasped it and headed back for Bill, grappling herself once-more onto the platform.

"Hang on Bill, I'll get you lose!" Bill squirmed uncomfortably at the sight of the screwdriver, despite the fact that he knew it wasn't _the_ screwdriver, but he didn't protest. Mabel's voice saying _"beggars can't be choosers"_ echoed through his head.

Mabel reached for the handcuffs and was about to begin working at them when Dipper suddenly called out to her.

"Mabel! Get out of there!"

"What?" Mabel asked intelligently, looking around. She hadn't noticed, but at some point in the last few seconds Ghost-Eyes had suddenly given up on chasing Gideon and had instead pulled out a pocket lighter. Dipper had stopped the golf cart, and Ghost-Eyes had demanded that Gideon be turned over or else he'd light the wood. Dipper had complied and let Gideon go...

And Gideon had immediately tossed the lighter at the pile of lumber. With the kindling and lighter fluid still spread about it, the flames grew in an instant and surrounded the base.

"Oh man," Mabel groaned, realizing that heat had been instantly created around them. "Hold on Bill, it's okay, I'll get you down from here, just hold on!" Mabel positioned the screwdriver over the handcuffs and slammed her grappling gun onto the back side of the tool. The screwdriver left a scratch on the handcuffs' metal, but they didn't break. She tried again.

"Shooting Star," Bill began, coughing as smoke rose from the fire beneath them. Mabel coughed too.

"H-hold on! I've almost got it!" Bill knew that she was lying though. Police handcuffs were sturdy, well-built, and wouldn't be broken so easily, especially not under the might of a thirteen-year-old girl.

Bill was already sweating and coughing, and Mabel wasn't doing much better. Still, she looked ready to either free him or die trying. Bill raked his eye over the scene before him, peering around at the Gnomes and various people, looking for Stanford, but he was nowhere to be seen.

 _'Damn him!'_ Bill thought harshly and he growled. Mabel glanced at him, but kept working. _'Damn everything!'_

Bill turned his eye to Mabel and she stared back, sensing his gaze on her. He was scared, she could tell, but more prominent than that was a fierce seriousness and determination.

"I don't want to die alone," he said quietly. Mabel didn't know what that meant until Bill spun himself around the stake, lifted his legs so that his feet were braced squarely against her chest, and he kicked with all his might.

Mabel had barely let out an inaudible _'oof'_ as she was shoved backwards away from the platform. She barely cleared the flames, landing in her Grunkle Stan's outstretched arms, Dipper by their side a moment later.

"BILL!" Mabel screamed, but she couldn't see up over the edge of the platform to glimpse him from so nearby, especially not since he was now sitting on it rather than standing after having lost his upright position in the effort of kicking her off.

 _'It makes sense that this is how it would end,'_ Bill thought. _'Just as it did before, so does it end again, in flames.'_

Fire, the element behind his power. Flames his method of bringing about destruction and yet, in the end, they always turned around and betrayed him. They were always the source of his demise.

Bill closed his eye shut tightly and waited.

 **A/N: The End~! The story's over! Haha, just kidding. It's only another one of my notorious cliffhangers. Don't worry though, I'll update again soon, probably in a couple of days.**

' **Till next time, remember! Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, Buy Gold, BYE~!**


	54. Chapter 52: Playing A Six-Fingered Hand

**Chapter 52: Playing A Six-Fingered Hand**

 **A/N: Before we begin, I have some AMAZING news! I personally am pretty awful at art (I'm a writer not an artist), but** **BADWOLF1221** **is very much NOT an awful artist like I am, and they've graciously offered to do some illustrations for this story! So sometime in the near future I'm going to be publishing this story on DeviantArt WITH a few illustrations thrown into it courtesy of BADWOLF! (I have an illustrator! Wow! Never thought I'd see the day! My major is freaking economics! Like whaaat? Haha.)**

 **To start off though, BADWOLF wanted me to ask you guys to send in requests (via reviews) for which scenes from this story you want to see illustrated the most. Whichever scenes are requested most often will get drawn up, and there's no limit to the number of scenes you can request (for those who just can't decide)! Though, um... Maybe don't request every single scene from start to finish, yeah? ^^;**

 **There's more I want to say, but it can wait until the end of the chapter, so for now, enjoy the story~! Talk to you on the other side! ;)**

Bill couldn't breathe, his lungs ached as he coughed from the smoke, and there was heat all around him. He could feel where the flames licked at him just below him, creeping their way quickly up to engulf him. If just the first touches of the flames were agony on his human skin he didn't want to know what being entirely covered in them felt like, but that seemed inevitable at this point...

Then he felt it. At first just a light mist, then a few drops, and within a moment he was suddenly sopping wet from head to toe and for a few seconds he couldn't breathe not because of the smoke or the burning in his lungs and throat, but because he was _drowning_. Water pushed past him in a heavy downpour that would have knocked him to the ground had he been standing, an uncomfortable pressure, but he welcomed it because it instantly banished the scorching heat that had been about to consume him moments before. As soon as the water came it went again, passing as it spread out over the area around him. Bill gasped and coughed, sucking in air and still heaving because of the damage that had been done to his lungs and esophagus, on top of the results of the brief moment where the air around him had been replaced with liquid.

Bill blinked slowly before looking up, his neck strained by even the slightest of movements. His gaze traveled the rest of the way up and there, standing before him on the platform, was Stanford Pines.

 **...**

Anyone would later say that it was quite marvelous to behold. Dipper, especially, looked on in awe as it happened. His Grunkle Ford had come running out from between two buildings and had sprinted up the burning wooden stairs to the platform. He'd stopped in front of Bill, lifted his ray gun, and pointed it directly upwards just as the Gravity Falls water tower finished its decent down the hill, rolling up over a building with knocked-over trees providing it a ramp from the ground to the top before flying directly over the stake in the middle of town.

Just as it was about to pass overhead Ford fired, effectively destroying the water tower, flinging the wooden bits from it well out away from town and into the tree line where there was no risk of them hurting anyone. Seeing this, the majority of the Gnomes scattered, only Shmebulock and Jeff remaining. The water from the now decimated water tower seemed to hang in the air for a moment before continuing in the same trajectory as the water had been going, but much more downward. The entire stake was drenched in the volume of water and Stan had to brace for impact, holding Dipper and Mabel to keep them from getting knocked off their feet as the water rushed past them. Soos actually _did_ trip and fall as he was knocked over, unprepared as the water pushed at him since he had still been staring in awe at Stanford.

Mabel, Dipper, and Soos cheered as the rest of Gideon's thugs scampered off while Gideon and Ghost-Eyes high-tailed it out of there, their plans effectively foiled for the time being. Stan couldn't help but look smug, as if he was silently screaming to the world " _that's my bad-ass nerdy brother!"_

… **.**

Bill peered up at Ford through his drenched golden hair, breathing in shaky breaths and trembling. Ford stepped forward, dialed down his gun to a thin concentrated ray, and carefully positioned it before firing, easily slicing through the handcuffs and leaving a scorch mark in the street.

Bill was still gasping. "You have the _key,_ " he said, reminding Stanford that they'd given him the key to the handcuffs earlier and hadn't bothered to take it back.

"I lost it," Ford lied, but everyone knew he just wanted to shoot the cuffs off because it looked cooler that way.

Bill would have said as much, but a coughing fit struck him and he doubled over, clutching his chest and side where he was certain at least one of his ribs was still broken.

"You're alright," Ford assured him, resting a six-fingered hand on his back. "It'll fade in an hour or two, since your healing is so advanced. Take it easy though." Bill managed to nod as he regained control of his respiratory system.

"... Thank you..." Bill whispered it, barely audible as he was still hunched over on the platform. Ford reached down in response, scooping Bill's small form up into his arms. Bill wanted to protest, wanted to demand that this didn't mean anything and they were still enemies, but he didn't have the breath nor the conviction for it, so he closed his eye and let his head lull onto Stanford's shoulder as he was carefully carried down off the hellish platform, away from the spot where he'd been certain moments before he would die.

He was also grateful that he didn't have to walk down the stairs himself, seeing as there were places where a step or two were now missing. He didn't think he would have been able to manage that with his breathing still so labored and his previously broken rib still aching. Hopefully it had only been one rib with a clean break and not multiple ribs.

Mabel was the first to greet them at the bottom of the stairs. Ford knelt down to give her access as she wrapped her arms around Bill's neck and squeezed tightly.

"Can't... Breathe... Shooting Star..." Bill gasped out, trying to squirm away from her. Mabel held on a moment longer before letting go, coming away with tears in her eyes.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" She demanded. "I would have gotten you free!" Bill knew that she wouldn't have, but he didn't argue with her. Mabel wiped tears from her eyes. "When we get home you can take a warm bubble bath and I'll make you some hot chocolate, okay?" Mabel asked, noting how Bill was shivering from being so soaking wet outside in the middle of the night. Ever since Bill had arrived he'd been strongly averse to the cold and he never managed well being outside at night: Dipper had already theorized that it was because Bill naturally gravitated to heat and fire... When the fire wasn't trying to burn him alive, that is.

"Maybe later," Ford clarified, "but right now he's not returning to the Mystery Shack." Ford stood with Bill still in his arms as a black BMW rolled up. Everyone turned to the car; Ford was the only one not surprised by its arrival. Bill looked up at Stanford, confused.

"What? Why isn't he coming back with us?" Mabel asked, voicing everyone's confusion.

"The Shack clearly isn't safe for him right now," Ford explained. "He was taken from there, so people must know that's where he's been staying. That's the first place they'll look for him."

"So? Let 'em come! We can hold 'em off, now that we know they'll be comin'!" Stan said somewhat arrogantly. "The Shack's been given defenses on numerous occasions. With those there's no way anyone's getting; in or out withou' our approval!"

Ford shook his head. "You'd have to close the Shack to everyone, tourists and the townspeople alike. The defenses aren't complicated enough to know the difference once you turn them on. Plus, I don't want the kids to be put in danger over this." Dipper and Mabel instantly made as if to protest, but Ford steamrolled over them. "Besides," he emphasized the word, "Bill will be safer if he's someplace else, just until we get to talk to the town and convince them that what happened tonight was wrong. It'll only be a couple of days," Ford promised. "He'll be back before you know it, and he'll be safe. I promise."

Mabel still looked skeptical, but she could see the logic in her Grunkle's words. Part of her wanted to resist, to say that he'd broken one too many promises recently for her to trust him (though trust him she still did), but Stan comforted her with a hand on her shoulder. He, too, was all-for keeping her and Dipper out of harm's way... And it was also true that he didn't want to have to close the Shack for so many days. Mabel reluctantly remained silent as Ford approached the black car with Bill still in his arms. Bill squirmed, afraid but too drained to properly protest.

Ford opened the back door and set Bill inside. Bill stared at him, confused, scared for numerous reasons, a little lost, and clearly wondering where he was going, but Ford didn't say anything as he shut the door. The car slowly rolled into motion and drove off, the last two Gnomes disappearing as well now that they were reasonably sure that Bill was safe.

"Come on," Ford said, "we'll leave clean-up to the rest of the town. It's the least they can do, considering everything they've done lately." Dipper instantly nodded and began to follow his Grunkle Ford to the StanlyMobile.

"I'm... Sorry I thought you betrayed us," Mabel said part-way to the car. "I just... I know how much you hate Bill..." Ford turned around.

"I'm sorry I had to trick you Mabel," he said, kneeling down and looking at her eye-to-eye. "It's good that you were so convinced though. Your reaction to me 'turning' is part of what convinced that little weird kid that I was actually switching sides. Besides, I didn't expect you to see through my façade and predict what my plan was. That was Dipper's job." Ford smiled over at Dipper, who smirked in return.

"I had my suspicions. I mean, I couldn't be totally sure, but I know you pretty well Grunkle Ford, and I at least trust you enough to believe you wouldn't betray us like that, even if you didn't want to save Bill." Dipper continued to smile as he climbed into the car.

"I'm with Mabel, I was totally fooled!" Soos said as he clambered into his truck.

"Eh, I knew my brother wasn't no turn-coat," Stan said. Everyone gave him a look that just screamed _"_ _Really?"_

"What, you don' believe me?" Stan asked, feigning hurt. He looked at his twin. "After all the time we've spent together over the past year!"

Ford rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." Stan grumbled something under his breath, clearly not satisfied with that answer, but he didn't persist. They drove back to the Shack, talking all the way about how they would organize a meeting with the townsfolk and how they would go about convincing them not to try and execute Bill again.

"How long do you think it'll be?" Mabel asked quietly at one point. "Before Bill can come back to the Shack?"

"Likely only a couple of days," Ford assured her.

"Yeah Mabel," Dipper jumped in. "Once we speak with the town I'm sure we can convince them to leave Bill to us! I mean, we can be _pretty_ convincing when we have to be!" Mabel smiled in agreeance.

"And in the perhaps likely event that simply negotiating doesn't work," Stanford continued, "I have a few ideas as for how we can force them to leave Bill alone. I _did_ traverse the multiverse, after all: Protecting Bill from these simple townspeople will be a synch now that I have time to prepare and think it through."

Dipper nodded. "See? He'll be back before you know it."

Mabel smiled. "Okay, I _guess_ I can go a couple of days without him around then. I just... hadn't really noticed until now that I'd actually gotten _used_ to him being at the Shack."

Dipper only nodded in silent agreement.

… **.**

The windows were very darkly tinted, and there was once again glass separating the back seat from the front, though this time there were thankfully no metal bars and the back doors had door handles that Bill could utilize if he had to try and escape.

Bill tried not to think about the panic which was gripping him as the car moved at an indeterminable speed down the road. He did _not_ feel safe in this car with who-knows-who driving, but Bill also couldn't muster up the energy to properly freak out. He was parched, his throat sore and burning from the heat and smoke inhalation, and the suffocation he'd experienced had left him completely drained of energy, not to mention the strain of his body attempting to heal itself. If fighting became necessary, Bill highly doubted he'd be able to manage to even as much as put up a shield, so whoever Ford had left him with, Bill hoped it was someone who could be trusted.

Only one person's name ran through Bill's mind at the moment, one person that he highly suspected was sitting on the other side of the tinted glass separating them, and Bill honestly didn't know how he felt about being left with this person.

Bill's suspicions were confirmed as the car pulled up at what had previously been the Northwest Mansion, but which was now the property of Fiddleford McGucket. McGucket parked the car, turned it off, and stepped out. He opened the back door and looked in at Bill, who was regarding him with skepticism written all over his face, his eye dull with exhaustion but squinted in a warning: ' _Don't you dare try anything...'_

Fiddleford's own eyes widened because, last he'd checked, Bill _had_ had two eyes, hadn't he? He almost commented on it, almost asked _"what happened to your other eye?"_ But he refrained himself at the last moment and covered his tracks by raising a fist to his mouth and clearing his throat. _'Perhaps,'_ Fiddleford thought, _'now is not the time for me to ask such questions. He's had a long night, after all.'_

"Well, Little Fella," McGucket began, his words reflecting a tiny bit of his hillbilly-ness, but his tone was perfectly civilized and regal; soft, warm, and welcoming, "you wanna come inside?"

McGucket moved out of the doorway, still holding the car door open, and he waited. Bill only took a moment before gingerly climbing out of the car, limping a bit as he stepped away from it. Fiddleford shut the door softly, as if knowing that loud noises could be harmful at the moment, before motioning to the front door. He walked at a leisurely pace up the steps, giving Bill time to take it easy as he went without leaving him behind or rushing him. He didn't offer to help Bill up the steps since he figured Bill wouldn't appreciate the gesture, but part of him still wanted to offer.

McGucket did, after all, have a son, so seeing any young-appearing child in pain struck a chord with him deeper than any chord Bill could ever strike in Ford.

Fiddleford held the front door open and waited patiently as Bill finished climbing the steps before walking inside. As soon as they were in Fiddleford motioned to a white couch in front of a lit fireplace off to their left.

"Go rest while I grab my medical supplies," he ordered. Bill opened his mouth to protest, but Fiddleford would have none of it. He shook his head and held up a hand to silence him. "Let's have none of that, Cipher. You clearly need to be checked over and I'm better versed in medicine than Stanford is." Bill huffed a little, but complied, making his way over to the couch, not caring that he was dripping water in a trail along the polished floors. Fiddleford didn't likely keep any staff living at the mansion, but Bill suspected that he had people stop by once a week or so to tidy up and maintain the mansion's upkeep.

Bill plopped down on the couch, almost falling asleep as he relaxed into the comfortable cushions, the warmth of the fire seeping into him. He was barely conscious when Fiddleford came back, carrying with him a dark-grey medical bag. He took out his stethoscope first and tapped Bill on the shoulder. Bill cracked his eye open to look at him.

"Sit up," he commanded gently, and Bill complied, automatically continuing by lifting his shirt and sweater so that Fiddleford could press the cold metal end of his device to Bill's chest. "Take a deep breath," he commanded, and Bill complied. The same process was completed with the stethoscope pressed to his back in various places before Fiddleford motioned his completion of the exam.

"The rib didn't puncture anything, but it is pressing against your lung and you may have a bit of internal bleeding. I'll have to wrap it tonight so it heals correctly; it already feels as if the healing process has begun. Here." McGucket handed Bill a vile of some horrible-smelling liquid. "It'll ease the burning in your throat," he clarified and Bill forced it down with a grimace, instantly pleased by the soothing it did.

Fiddleford ran a hand lightly through Bill's hair when he spotted blood on the golden strands, Bill flinching slightly when his hand roamed over where he'd been slammed into the cell wall. A flash-light was lifted to his golden eye.

McGucket hummed. "If you were a cat, I'd say you have a concussion. But since you're not a cat, and you're definitely not a human, I can't exactly tell if your eye is responding properly or not." Fiddleford clicked off the light. "For now let's assume you have a concussion. Better safe than sorry." Bill groaned, figuring that that meant he wouldn't be able to sleep for a few hours, but Fiddleford shook his head. "It's alright, one only has to stay awake after a concussion if they're incapable of holding a conversation. You seem lucid enough to me, so you can sleep as soon as I finish treating you."

"…. Speaking of eyes..." Fiddleford began cautiously, and Bill tensed a little, though his muscles were too sore to tense fully. Fiddleford pulled ointment out of his bag and began applying it to Bill's damaged wrists and the few burns licking Bill's calves. "Should I take a look at that too?" He motioned briefly to Bill's eye patch.

Bill shook his head. "Nothing much can be done at this point. It happened several days ago," he said hoarsely, his throat still scratchy and sore. Bill could tell that McGucket wanted to know _what_ had happened but he was being polite enough not to ask. Bill sighed. _'He's housing me, and protecting me, so I guess I owe him this much.'_

"Ford stabbed me," Bill said quietly. Fiddleford's hands paused in their treatment of Bill's wounds. "It was mostly an accident…. I think…."

A pause. "That's... Some accident," Fiddleford finally said, putting away the ointment and pulling out bandages to wrap Bill's side with. "And it was only a few days ago?"

Bill nodded. "Advanced healing. Combined with Stanford's invention: A food supplement for me he calls 'Crackers'. They've helped... But that stupid midget-boy took the ones I had on me."

Fiddleford nodded. "That's fine. Stanford gave me a box of them." Even as he spoke, the be-speckled man concentrated on wrapping white bandages around Bill's thin frame, his hands moving dutifully.

Bill scoffed. _'Of_ _ **course**_ _IQ thought of everything...'_

Fiddleford taped the bandages in place with medical tape. "That should do it. Don't think I have to wrap the head wound... Anything else bothering you?" Bill shook his head in the negative. "Alright, then follow me." He led Bill through a door towards the back of the room, towards what Bill recognized were supposed to serve as the servants' quarters. They were mostly sealed off from the rest of the mansion, containing a decent kitchen, a living space, and several bedrooms with individual bathrooms, as if there were a whole little house shoved into the back corner of the mansion.

 _'Makes sense he would live here instead of in the main rooms,'_ Bill thought to himself, noting the dishes still left out on the counter in the kitchen. The servants' quarters felt much more like an ordinary home than the rest of the mansion did; they were a much easier to maintain and realistic living space for a reclusive man.

Fiddleford stopped in front of a door. "You can stay here. My room is right here across the hall if you need anything," he said, opening the door on the right as Bill stepped through the one on the left. "Goodnight."

Bill shut the door behind him and walked over to the bed. There was a pair of neatly folded black pajamas already set out on the bed for him, which he quickly picked up and changed into before crawling into the warmth of the lush thick bed covers.

He fell asleep instantly.

 **A/N: Alright, hope you enjoyed the chapter! There is another thing I wanted to discuss real quick: You might have noticed that sometimes I misplace words. For example, I use "Omniscient" and "Omnipotent" as if they are interchangeable. I do actually know the difference between the two in every way... except for in sight. Because of my dyslexia, when I look at two words which are very similar in appearance I can't tell them apart. I see two words of the same approximate length which both start with "Omni" and both end in "ent". Virtually the same in my eyes; very difficult to tell the difference. Same goes for "Edmond/Edward" and "Exercise/Exorcise" and a number of other words. The longer the word, the harder it is to tell them apart. But also the shorter the word the easier it is to overlook, so I really am hopeless. ^^;**

 **The point is, I'd like to apologize for this embarrassing occurrence and any repeat examples you may find of this phenomenon... but if I'm being honest I must also admit that I'm not going to give myself a headache going back to find all the places I switched up various words I can hardly tell apart, so it's unfortunately going to remain a flaw in this story which I can only ask forgiveness for. If I was getting** _ **payed**_ **to write this story then I might make sure it's all perfect grammar-wise, but since I'm not getting payed and this is just for fun... *Shrugs* I think you get the point.**

 **Okay, I'm done blabbering now, so thank you all for reading and remember to leave a review, especially if you want to request any scenes for my new illustrator to depict!**

 **'Till next time~!**


	55. Chapter 53: Sanity and Magnanimity

**Chapter 53: Sanity and Magnanimity**

 **A/N: To accompany this chapter I've got a simple piece of art I made myself (I'd finished it before I got an illustrator) that I've posted on DeviantArt, featuring Bill in exact Gravity Falls style, what he would look like if this actually was the next season, essentially. Part of that piece is also the new art for this story, so I hope you guys enjoy it. ^^**

 **I'm also posting the first piece by my illustrator BADWOLF1221 on DeviantArt, drawn by her and inked/colored by me based on her specifications (we're going to be collaborating on the art, since I'm horrid at putting lines on paper and getting them to actually look like something, haha). It's a basic depiction of what our Bill will look like in future illustrations. We're going for a Gravity Falls/realistic style blend.**

 **If you wanna go check it out, I won't be putting links here in the story, especially since FanFiction** _ **hates**_ **links and tries its best to do away with them, but you can find the art by simply searching in your browser "3DPhantom DeviantArt" and you should be able to find my profile page pretty easily from there.**

 **Enjoy~!**

Bill was astounded by Fiddleford's benevolence. Was this truly the same man which he'd inadvertently driven insane some thirty-odd years ago? The man who was destructive enough to send giant robots on rampages over basic life mishaps?

McGucket's kindness and generosity had reached levels high enough to leave Bill highly suspicious. When he woke up near noon on Sunday morning, Bill had found breakfast set out on a tray next to his bed. Resting upon the nightstand had been a simple set-up of bottled orange juice, dry cereal in a bowl, a Cracker resting at the edge of the tray, and a little carton of milk set in a small ice bucket, the purpose of which was to keep the milk cool, Bill assumed.

At first Bill thought that perhaps Fiddleford had locked him in the room and that was why he'd delivered food to him while he was asleep, but as Bill jumped out of bed and quickly approached the door, he found that it opened without hesitation.

 _'So, not confined to this room then,'_ Bill concluded as he closed the door, returned to his bed, and ate the offered breakfast, chasing the dry Cracker with a swig of the orange juice.

Bill finished breakfast and contemplated what he should do next. Did he want to risk wandering around the house, or talking to Fiddleford? The old coot had been nothing but hospitable to him, and that made him nervous. Despite Fiddleford's previous explanation of "you and I aren't so different," Bill couldn't help but question the man's motives for being so kind to him.

 _'Should I just accept his generosity and move on? Just let it be?'_ Part of him thought he should, but Bill was suspicious and paranoid by nature, so he constantly reminded himself to keep his guard up. Because of this, he managed to convince himself not to leave his room for another hour, but by the time one o'clock had come and gone he was so _indescribably_ bored that he couldn't help but venture out.

Bill took his tray from breakfast with him, setting it down on the kitchen counter as he monitored the quiet living space around him cautiously. He moved on into the living room where there was another fireplace, smaller and less extravagant than the one in the front foyer, but also more homey and welcoming, despite the lack of a fire providing warmth in the fireplace. There was also a decent-sized flat screen TV over the fireplace mantle: Bill considered turning it on and checking the news to see what was being said about last night's events, but his curiosity ultimately got the best of him and instead he continued to move through the servants' quarters, not knowing what he was looking for exactly. Perhaps he was looking for Fiddleford, though equal parts of him did and didn't want to find the man.

Still, find him he did, not in the servants' quarters, all of which Bill explored, but in the large, luxurious library located in one of the upper levels of the mansion. The man was sitting at a table, his legs kicked up on top of it, crossed at the ankles, and he had a book open on the table that he appeared to be reading. Simultaneously, he was plucking idle tunes on his banjo, and despite the softness of his playing, the quiet high notes filled the spacious room, with no other sounds competing to overshadow them.

Bill considered for a moment turning and leaving: He'd wanted to know where Fiddleford was and he did now, after all, know where he was. He wasn't too keen on talking to the man... But Fiddleford appeared to notice his presence. He didn't look up from his book, but he did take his feet off the table and set his banjo aside.

"You can come in. I don't bite... Usually..." Bill didn't smile at his good humor, even though part of him wanted to. Instead he silently approached, socked feet padding quietly across the floor, and he sat down across from Fiddleford at the table. He remained stock-still in his chair, eyeing the man across from him with a blank expression.

 _'If I don't know how to react, I won't react at all. Let him make the first move,'_ Bill thought. He hadn't been given a reason to fear Fiddleford yet, but part of him was still aware of the fact that the old man could probably kill him at a moment's notice if he decided that he wanted to.

Fiddleford finally looked up from his book when several minutes had passed in silence. "You're being quiet," he observed.

 _'Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.'_

"Does your throat still hurt?" McGucket asked with a slight frown that Bill almost recognized as concern.

 _'Why would he be concerned for my wellbeing?'_

Bill shook his head to indicate that his silence wasn't the result of a lack of the ability to speak properly. In fact, most of his wounds had healed nicely over the past twelve hours. His rib was the only part of him that still ached, and slight yellow bruising adorned his cheeks.

"Well, I guess you don't have to talk if you don't want to." Fiddleford leaned back in his chair, and it wasn't until he was leaning back that Bill realized Fiddleford had been steadily leaning in closer over the table for the last few minutes. "There's plenty of books here if you want to read any, though I suspect you already know the contents of every one. I... Don't think I'll be showing you the location of my lab at this time, and I request that you don't go looking for it. You understand why, I'm sure."

 _'Because I'm Bill Cipher, of course.'_ Something on his face must have reflected this inner monologue because Fiddleford shook his head a little.

"Yes, because of who you are, but it's not just that. A scientist's lab is like a sanctuary. I don't enjoy letting other people into my work space, especially if I'm not close friends with them. Stanford is one of the only people I've ever shared lab space with."

Bill didn't respond.

"You have questions, don't you?" Fiddleford asked.

"Don't you?" Bill countered. Fiddleford smirked.

"It speaks!" He joked, resulting in an involuntary eye-roll from Bill. "It's true, I have a few questions. But who wouldn't have questions to ask while sitting alone in a room with you?"

 _'A fair point,'_ Bill mused.

"So how about this. You ask a question, and I ask a question. One-to-one."

"Do I have to answer questions I don't want to respond to?" Bill asked. Fiddleford wasn't familiar with all the rules that had been established between Bill and the Pines, was he? It was possible he was, since he had apparently been in contact with Ford several times since Bill's arrival.

But Fiddleford simply shook his head. "No, of course not. I don't have any questions to ask that are so pressing I'd demand an answer from you." Bill hummed in response. "So why don't you start?"

Bill wanted to ask why Fiddleford had allowed him into his home: That seemed like such an important question! But instead, before he could stop himself, the words escaped: "Why aren't you talking with even the slightest bit of an accent right now?" Bill almost groaned, wishing he could reverse time for a few moments and take that question back, and it must have been visible on his face because Fiddleford instantly laughed.

"I just... Figured you would want to have a proper, civil conversation with someone. I'm sure that's not something you get much of nowadays, and based on what Ford's told me about you, you seem to be someone who enjoys the occasional civil chat. Besides, nowadays I mostly use my accent when I'm either around friends and family who appreciate me for who I am, or when I'm around people I don't want to think of me as a proper genius. A way to disguise myself, you could say. I hardly think that'd work on you though, would it?" Bill didn't respond, knowing that the question was rhetorical.

"Your turn to ask then. Fire when ready."

Fiddleford hummed. "Why did you start Weirmageddon? I want to hear it directly from you."

Bill sighed. _'Getting right to the point, then?'_ "I wanted power, and to save the Nightmare Realm." It was a simple, straight-forward answer, and Fiddleford accepted it without hesitation, not pressing for any further elaboration. "Why aren't you insane anymore?"

"I came to terms with my past," Fiddleford replied smoothly. "Decided that it was time to look to the future. To think about my relationships with other people, especially my family and friends, and I realized that I had to have confidence in myself. I couldn't spend my whole life being afraid of what might happen when instead I could trust my judgement and intellect and just believe that whatever problems arose, I could face them. Defeating you was actually a large stepping stone for me. Surely if I can aid in the destruction of a nearly all-powerful Dream Demon I can handle whatever else life throws at me. The only person capable of defeating me is myself. Even if I die, as long as I die with a calm and collected mind I die victorious. I highly value sanity, these days."

 _'I don't,'_ Bill thought to himself. _'But your special brand of sanity still sounds pretty arrogant and insane to me, so I'll take it.'_

"How are your powers coming along?"

"Slowly, and in very limited amounts. I have a couple more now, but they're still primarily only there for keeping me alive, and they don't do much more than that. Almost entirely nonexistent." Fiddleford didn't exactly say _"good"_ or anything, but his nod was understood. "Why have you been so generous to me? Letting me in your home, having civil conversation with me because you think I'll enjoy it, _breakfast in bed?_ Surely there must be more reason than just the idea that you and I are similar."

McGucket smirked. "It's a moral point, as well as a scientific one. I know you're a villain, but most villains aren't born that way, they're created. Scientifically speaking, I want to know what makes you tick. I want to know why you've done the things you've done. Now that I'm not so terrified all the time, I'm much more curious about you, and being kind to you seems as good a way as any to gather information. Something tells me you wouldn't respond well to violence as a means of extracting intel from you, though Stanford might once have strongly disagreed with that sentiment." Fiddleford waved his hand as if he was shooing off his previous statements. "But besides that, there's the moral point. I have a son you know, so I'm naturally inclined to want to help you, given your current appearance. And even without that, I think it's pretty clear you aren't in any position to help yourself right now. You're a neutral acquaintance, not an enemy or a friend, for now, and you're in need of some assistance. The thing about humans... Good humans, that is... We help each other when the need arises. And, for all intents and purposes, you're human enough to me."

Bill grimaced, clearly not liking the idea of being a "human," and McGucket laughed. "I know, I know, you don't like that opinion, but it's my opinion all the same." Fiddleford gestured down at Bill's clothes, still the same nightgown he'd gone to bed in the night before. "I assume you haven't given your room a proper look-around, then, based on what you're wearing." Bill donned a look of confusion. "I've seen this coming for some time: The possibility of you coming to stay with me. When summer ends, for example," Fiddleford stood and began exiting the library, Bill right behind him, "if you're still here, and human, you'll need somewhere to stay. Ford and Stan will continue their world-wide adventures and Dipper and Mabel can't take you back home with them like a new pet, so Ford and I agreed that you could stay here with me. Or, more specifically, I offered to house you." They approached the servants' living quarters and continued on to what Fiddleford had deemed as Bill's room.

Fiddleford entered and stepped immediately over to the closet. He gestured to it. "I took the liberty of having a few items ordered in your size." Fiddleford made to leave the room again. "I'll be in the TV room when you're done."

Bill watched him go, confused, before reaching for the handle to the closet. He yanked the door open.

He couldn't have stopped the smile that worked its way onto his face if he tried.

"Now _this,_ I'll have to thank him for."

… **.**

Bill emerged from his room some thirty minutes later. He stopped behind the couch where Fiddleford was sitting, reading a newspaper while the TV played quietly in the background.

"Alright Fiddleford, you win. We can play nice together. Now what questions do you _really_ have for me?" Fiddledord's smirk was _incredibly_ smug as he set the newspaper down and looked up, watching as Bill stepped around to stand in front of the couch.

Bill Cipher had always been openly appreciative of material things. He enjoyed having a floating pyramidal castle, a death-metal styled hot-rod, a giant throne to display his majesty from, and snazzy articles of clothing such as bow-ties, top-hats and elegant, sleek walking-canes. Bill was also shallow enough to be willing to openly admit that, yes, one could buy their way onto his good side with items he was unable to attain himself. Fiddleford had done _exactly_ that.

Bill stood before him, a smirk so wide and genuine on his face that almost nothing could remove it at this point. His hands were placed straight-out in front of him, one resting atop the other, perched on the top curve of a black cane. Upon his golden hair rested a silk black top-hat, and he wore black dress shoes that blended with his black slacks, a black tailcoat with a yellow underside to accompany, with a white button-up undershirt and neatly placed bow-tie tying it all together. His eye patch was still the same basic black one Stanley had given him, since Fiddleford hadn't known he should order any at the time that he requested Bill's wardrobe, so Fiddleford made a mental note to consider ordering a few Bill-Cipher-style designed patches. _If_ the information Bill was willing to provide him felt credible and valuable, of course.

"So," Fiddleford began, "shall we continue our game from earlier?" Bill nodded his consent. "I'll go first. How have you been holding up?"

Bill looked confused. " _That's_ really the question you're going to start with? You've already made your way onto my good side, Specs, you don't have to be so polite anymore; don't have to pretend you care how I'm doing. Surely you must have a better, more pressing question."

Fiddleford denied this with a shake of his head. "No, I'm genuinely curious as to how you've been managing. Pretend it's for research purposes if you'd like. I didn't ask earlier because I knew your response would be a simple _'fine'_ or a sarcastic comment or something of the like. I'm hoping for an honest, thought-out answer right now."

Bill hummed. "Alright, if that's really how you want to play it. I've been managing about as well as anyone _can_ manage when stripped of one's own identity and self-respectability, cast from the top of the world down to the lowest of places." Bill said all of this with his signature devilish smirk still planted firmly on his face. "I mean, I'm not even sure I'm _me_ anymore. This human body may have changed me past the point of actually being myself." Bill looked down at his hand as if inspecting himself, as if he could see past his skin to tell whether or not he was still, in fact, Bill Cipher. "If I turned you into a fish, would you still be you? Or would you be something else? What defines someone? A soul? I have none, to my knowledge. Or at the very least I _didn't,_ and if this body came with a soul then surely that must have changed what I am. Is it memories which define us? Capabilities, emotions, personality?" Fiddleford hummed, but he didn't give a true response, either because he didn't know the answer or because Bill had to decide this for himself. Bill set his hand back on his cane and shrugged. "Still, I've managed well, all things considered. I'm no stranger to new circumstances, after all. If anyone could handle such levels of insanity and chaos in their life, I'd be the one to do it."

"I don't doubt it," Fiddleford agreed. "Your turn."

"Do you have cameras hidden about the place?" Bill asked without hesitation. Fiddleford blinked, but didn't respond at first. "Certainly you must! It's one thing to be nice to me, to allow me into your home, and to let me wander around the place as I please, but it's another thing entirely to leave me unsupervised. You don't, after all, trust me. I know that for certain. You must be at least a _bit_ paranoid, you must have _some_ precautions in place... So. Do you have cameras?"

 _'He'd find one of them sooner or later,'_ Fiddleford thought to himself, _'and then he'd never trust me, if he knew I lied to him.'_ He sighed. "Yes." He took off his glasses. "I have cameras installed in every room in the house, and I can monitor the screens on my glasses so that I always know where you are and what you're up to." He held up his glasses so that Bill could see across the distance a tiny screen on the top-right corner of the right lens that displayed the very room they were currently in.

 _'Well I know where at least one of the cameras is now,'_ Bill thought, forcefully keeping himself from looking up into the corner where he now knew a camera to be.

Bill looked suspicious and stood up straighter, tilting his hat back a bit more and placing his cane at his side. "What about my clothes? Didn't hide any cameras there, did you?" If he had Bill would likely either remove them or refuse to wear the outfits Fiddleford had just gifted him.

"Na-ah, my turn to ask another question first," Fiddleford objected. Bill looked like he was about to protest, to whine about how unfair that was, but Fiddleford would have none of it. "No cheating, Bill Cipher, not even in this little game we've got going."

Bill's protests died on his lips and a smirk slowly made its way across his face, genuinely creepy, despite his cute and young appearance, amplified in effect by the shadow cast by the rim of his new hat. "Alright, Spectacles. I'll play _fair_. Ask your question."

"What kind of guarantees would you give, what kind of safety precautions would you put in place, to ensure that another Weirdmageddon didn't happen as a result of someone helping you open the portal again? What measures and procedures would you promise to put in place so that if someone helped you open the portal and save a few friends, they'd be reasonably certain you wouldn't be able to try merging the entire Nightmare Realm and Third Dimension again?"

Bill froze, his eye going wide, and it felt as if his heart had stopped beating. He dropped his cane, not even noticing, and stared. Fiddleford stared back, all calmness and composure. Did he not know what his words implied? What hope they instilled in Bill's possibly non-existent heart?

"Y-You..." For the first time in possibly forever, Bill stammered, not knowing what to say. His silver tongue tied itself to the roof of his mouth for a few long moments.

"Bill..." Fiddleford tried, quietly trying to pull him back into the conversation, but not pushing him to snap out of it before he'd correctly processed what had been said.

Bill moved monotonously and subconsciously, setting himself stiffly on the couch next to Fiddleford, staring down at the ground. He closed his eye. _'No,'_ he told himself sternly. _'You're misinterpreting something. There's_ _ **no way**_ _Fiddleford is_ _ **offering**_ _to help you build another portal. You didn't hear him correctly, or else he's just getting your hopes up so he can slam them back down again and laugh in your face.'_

Bill smirked again, this time mirthlessly, his eye still closed in concentration. "You're toying with me. You _are_ devious, aren't you?" Bill opened his eye and looked sideways at the man next to him, expecting Fiddleford to shrug and fess up.

But he didn't. Instead he stared calmly back. "I wouldn't do that."

Bill's eye widened again and suddenly, instead of his heart being deathly silent, it was thudding in his ears. "You'd help me make another portal?"

Fiddleford leaned back a tad defensively, as if the physical movement could rewind the conversation. "Now let's not get ahead of ourselves. I just wanted to know what precautions you'd offer. I need to hear those first, and _then_ I'll _think_ about possibly considering the project."

"I'd do anything," Bill said, his head snapping upward. "Anything you'd like. Just name it!"

Fiddleford laughed and shook his head. "No no no! That's not how this would work!" He said lightheartedly, as if jokingly reprimanding a child. "I want _you_ to come up with the safety measures. If I do it you'll just agree and then try to find a loophole. No, _you're_ gonna set the rules and then _I'll_ try to find the loopholes and add more rules of my own whenever I find some."

Bill nodded. "Like I said, anything. I'll need a bit of time though to properly consider and come up with a set of rules I think will please even _you_. You probably don't, after all, want me just listing things off the top of my head, do you?"

Fiddleford smiled and shook his head. "No, I wouldn't want that. And of course, it's fine, take as much time as you need. If you return to the Mystery Shack before finishing, just ask Ford if you can speak with me and I'll make sure we get the chance to talk face-to-face. The same applies if there's ever anything else you need to talk about, if you're having difficulties or want to share anything with me." He paused, as if contemplating whether or not he should say what else was on his mind. "I also have a degree in psychology. I'm sure you know what I'm implying."

Bill couldn't help it; he straight-out laughed. " _Me?_ Have _you_ as my _psychiatrist?_ I've heard a lot of ridiculous things in my life, but that is _by far_ the most ludicrous!" He practically shrieked in laughter as Fiddleford rolled his eyes, but smiled along. After a few minutes Bill calmed himself, still full-out smirking. "And when did you get a degree in psychology anyway? Last I checked you were a mechanic, technology sort of guy."

"I did some more schooling after Weirdmageddon," Fiddleford admitted. "Psychology was a must, for obvious reasons. If ever I begin to slip back into insanity, I want to be able to recognize the signs, diagnose it, and prevent myself from losing my sanity all over again. Since I had the money I also went on ahead and studied a number of other subjects, including literature, some trace amounts of art, other areas of science I'd previously left unexplored, and primarily medicine and medical practices. I'm getting older whether I like it or not, so medical knowledge was another one of those areas of expertise I thought I should try to master. Plus, this town is prone to accidents, so I knew that knowledge would come in handy eventually. Yesterday proved as much, since I was able to assist you. I already made my name in the inventing industry, so branching out to other studies and focusing on them over the last nine and a half months seemed logical enough to me."

Bill nodded. "Well, you won't see me complaining."

"I somehow doubt that," Fiddleford laughed. "My knowledge might even rival _yours_ now." Fiddleford knew this wasn't the case; he was only joking. The effect was exactly as he'd hoped it would be when Bill laughed whole-heartedly again for the second time that day.

"In your dreams, Spectacles!"

Fiddleford smiled and stood, going to prepare lunch, despite the fact that Bill had eaten breakfast only a few hours prior. Bill may have eaten his breakfast rather late, but Fiddleford had eaten his on time at ten in the morning, and he was ready for his next meal.

"Hey Specs," Bill asked as Fiddleford walked around behind the couch and towards the kitchen. "One more thing."

"What is it, Bill?"

"Did you put cameras in my clothes?"

Fiddleford sighed heartily. " _No,_ Bill, I didn't!"

And for once, Bill actually believed him.

 **A/N: Nice long chapter for you guys. ^^ Don't forget to vote on which scenes you want to be illustrated! I've gotten lots of great votes so far, but almost all entirely for different scenes! Haha! So keep it comin'! If you think of any more scenes you wanna see then say so and hopefully we can up some of these scenes so that they have more than one vote each via people's votes starting to overlap. XD**

 **Also, since I don't know when I'll be updating again (though hopefully in less than a week), I'm just gonna say a few occasion-marking shout-outs relating to the end of summer and Gravity Falls.**

 **August 24** **th** **, 2017: Non-Happy "Four-Year Anniversary" to the End of Weirdmageddon! (No "yay" because this is when Bill 'died' and Weirdmageddon ended so that makes me sad. Haha.)**

 **August 31** **st** **, 2017: Happy "18** **th** **Birthday" to Dipper and Mabel! Enjoy adulthood Mystery Twins! It's gonna suck! X'D**

 **Alright, I'm done being weird now (that's a lie).**

 **Remember! Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, Buy Gold, BYE~!**


	56. Chapter 54: Eye Spy

**Chapter 54: Eye Spy**

 **A/N: Words can't begin to describe how sorry I am for taking so long. I wish I could say this chapter was worth the wait, but it's just a filler…. Bigger things to come soon though! They can't all be fillers, right?!**

 **I stopped writing this story when I got a new job just under a year ago, and now within the last three weeks I quit the other job and got a different, better one and have the will to write again. That's my excuse for not writing for the last eleven months: My other job was sapping my energy, but it's okay because I'm done with that job now and am on to better things!**

 **Thank you SO MUCH to all of the people who kept asking about this story, reviewing, keeping track, hoping for an update! There are SO MANY OF YOU, just an outstanding number, and I might never have come back to this story if not for all of you! This chapter is dedicated to you all, and especially to a girl named Ella. I'm sorry I said I'd update for your birthday and didn't get around to it, little girl. I feel particularly bad about that…. Can all of you forgive me…? ****｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡**

 **Anyway, on to the long-awaited chapter!**

Lunch was eaten in a comfortable silence, a meal consisting of some simple microwave-heated chicken and green-beans that Fiddleford had explained was prepared on the weekends by those he paid to maintain the up-keep of the place and left in the fridge for him. Said simple meal was followed by a bowl of chocolate ice cream, much to Bill's concealed delight. Fiddleford of course knew that Bill was on a high-sugar-intake diet for medical reasons, and had therefore stocked up on a few sweet items.

After lunch, the two inhabitants of the mansion went their separate ways. Fiddleford disappeared, likely to his lab, if Bill had to take a guess, and Bill himself returned to his room, planning on meditating on what rules and standards he should come up with in order to convince Fiddleford that building a portal would be a possible and none-too-dangerous adventure.

Just as Bill was about to return to his room, he was distracted by something on the TV. The news had been left on from when McGucket had been watching it earlier. Shandra Jimenez was on the screen, reporting on a picture in the top corner of the screen. Bill instantly recognized the Mystery Shack in the background of the image; the townspeople had been gathered there, in front of the Mystery Shack, and standing before the large group of people was the Pines family. Jimenez clarified that a meeting was being held as she spoke, but there was no live feed currently running due to technical difficulties (likely caused by Ford's various machines, Bill guessed. The man was paranoid... for some reason... and thought he was constantly being watched, so he always carried devices that prevented spy-cams from functioning near him or his residence).

Bill hummed. What was being said? He couldn't help but wonder...

An idea struck him. Bill smirked and quickly returned to his room. He shrugged off his tailcoat and laid it down on the bed before climbing on himself, sitting cross-legged in the center of the plush materials.

Bill rested a wrist on each knee, falling easily into the pose of meditation that he'd been using for many millennia. He closed his eye and concentrated.

It was a strange sensation: He'd never before had difficulty seeing through depictions of himself. He'd always been able to see through any birch tree or self-representation with ease, it normally felt like opening an eye. Imagine walking around with one eye closed, and opening your second eye only on occasion. Such was normally the easy, natural feeling Bill Cipher had when seeing through the many representations of himself, no matter how many eyes he opened at once.

But now it was difficult. Maybe because he was limited to only one extra eye-sight, or because he hadn't used this ability in quite a while, or perhaps it was because his body wasn't up to the task. No matter the reason, trying to open his sight to merge with that of the eye that was depicted in the "A" of "MYSTERY SHACK" above the front door of the wooden structure was a hassle. Instead of feeling as if he was simply opening an eye, it felt like he was reaching for an item which was just out of reach with his mind. A stretching and straining that was already giving him a headache and creating an uncomfortable pressure in his temples.

Nevertheless, after a few moments of concentration, Bill felt colors begin to blur into his sight, despite the fact that his own human body's eye was still closed. Soon the scene of what was occurring outside the Mystery Shack bled into his mind's eye and he could see the backs of the Pines in front of him, along with the crowd of townspeople before them.

Bill couldn't actually _hear_ what was being said, limited to sight as he was, but he still knew nearly every word which was being spoken anyway. His lip-reading capabilities were rivaled by no one. He was able to tell what someone was saying even more easily by reading their lips than he could by listening to them. After all, if someone were to whisper a few words inaudibly, he was still capable of understanding them perfectly due to his skill. He'd been utilizing said skill for as long as he could remember, and it proved useful once again under the current situation.

He couldn't see the Pines directly but, because of the reflections of their front-sides which he could view in car windows and on the lenses of glasses being worn by people in the crowd, he knew exactly what was being said.

The crowd was livid, for the most part. There were some accusations:

 _"How could you let it live?!"_

 _"Why didn't you tell anyone?"_

 _"You've been possessed!"_

Stanford was standing behind the other Pines, not attempting to calm the crowd or respond to any statements, his arms crossed and a look of deep concentration on his face.

Dipper, Mabel, and Stan were doing the exact opposite: They held their hands out in front of them in calming gestures, flailed around, and in Stanley's case, occasionally made threats in return. Each of the three seemed to be desperately trying to grasp answers and spew them out for each question asked, ultimately their responses and assurances going unheard as the crowd either yelled over their voices or ignored their responses altogether. But Bill could make out every word.

The hard part about it, about trying to put this crowd to rest, was that the accusations they were making were true. Bill knew it, everyone knew it, with the exception perhaps of Mabel. Claims of _"he's a monster," "it's nothing but trouble,"_ and Bill's personal favorite, _"Bill Cipher only cares about himself,"_ were hard claims to refute. Yet still, Mabel, Dipper, and Stanley tried their best with _"he's not so bad"_ and _"if you got to know him"_. But for once the townspeople weren't buying what they were selling.

Finally, when Stan and Dipper were beginning to look disheartened (though Mabel continued to argue with various people in the same animated matter that she'd begun in), Stanford uncrossed his arms and stepped forward a bit, still behind the other Pines, but no longer leaning against the Shack's wall.

 _'This should be good,'_ Bill thought to himself. Everyone fell silent, eager to hear what Ford had to say. The man's very presence demanded respect, and no one in the town had forgotten that this very man was the one who'd blown up the water-tower with a single shot the night before.

 _"You're all correct,"_ Ford began, _"Bill Cipher is a selfish creature fueled by personal motives, chaos, and anger. He takes what he wants without concern for others, lies, cheats, and tricks people into doing what he wants... But you can't kill him for that."_

Everyone was silent, out of confusion more than anything. Bill himself wasn't following Ford's line of logic.

Ford continued. _"I've been carefully observing him since he arrived in human form early this summer. There was a time I would have thought change in him was impossible, but now I believe that there is at least a **chance** that he could change for the better. He's not quite the same as he used to be, still evil perhaps, but there's a lot we don't know about him. So, let's come to an agreement. It is to some people morally acceptable to kill a person if they have been found guilty of killing others. Here in Oregon particularly, under state law, capital punishment is technically legal. If anyone in the town can provide evidence to show they know of a time when Bill Cipher murdered someone, then I'll kill Cipher myself. If you know of such a time, speak up."_

All were silent.

Ford nodded, confident that his point had been made. _"Anyone who tries to kill him without him posing an immediate threat will have to deal with me, and you'll face charges of attempted murder."_

Bill was well aware that some could at least claim that he'd _attempted_ to kill people during Weirdmageddon, but Stanford was right; there was, at the very least, a distinct lack of proof, and no one had actually died by his hand during the whole debacle.

 _"I promise you that my family and I will do everything we can to keep him under control. We've already set some ground rules, which I will inform you of, and I'm going to extend some rights to the townspeople as well..."_

 _'This could be bad...'_ Bill thought to himself, listening intently. But before he could eavesdrop in on what assurances and promises Ford was going to make to the townspeople, Bill's vision got blurry. He was pulled out of his sight as the headache which had been steadily building in the back of his mind overtook him and he opened a teary eye, now observing once more the inner walls of the bedroom Fiddleford had provided him.

Bill glanced over at the clock near his bed. _'Only five minutes? Damn it...'_ Bill scoffed and tried to forcefully re-establish the connection, but ultimately, he failed. His head still hurt from the first use of this power, and it didn't look as if his current headache was going to fade away so quickly. He hoped that as he grew stronger he would be able to use his new power for longer, but for now, he had to simply wait until he could talk to the Pines again and ask them himself what the new rules were, and what exactly had been promised to the townsfolk.

Bill sunk into his plush pillow and comforter with a deep groan. He sprawled out and closed his eye, enjoying the slight relief the darkness brought to his temples. Before long, he'd drifted off into a light dreamless sleep.

 **….**

That night, Stanford called and Fiddleford agreed to drive Bill back to the Mystery Shack. Bill took with him a new suitcase, a vintage woven one, simple but classy enough. If it had been up to Bill he would have filled it with suits and bow-ties, but as it was Fiddleford had convinced him that it would be neither practical nor logical for him to be dressed in full formal attire day in and day out, so Bill took only his primary yellow and black suit along with basic button-up shirts and slacks. He didn't like knowing he now had access to a number of snazzy outfits in varying colors he wasn't allowed to wear, but he'd settle for just having more than three outfits for the time being.

The ride back to the Mystery Shack was pleasantly uneventful, no cars crossing their path or following them down the dim dirt roads of Gravity Falls, the light of the moon barely wafting down through the treetops that stretched their limbs outwards over the center of the road.

Bill watched the trees pass in a blur, barely registering the direction in which they were traveling. He still didn't enjoy car rides, but he was beginning to get used to them, and he was far too preoccupied in his own mind to be concerned with the speed at which the vehicle was traveling, the reaction times of its driver, or the way the darkness increased the statistical likelihood of crashing due to impeded human eyesight.

Fiddleford glanced at Bill a couple of times as they went, the demon being far quieter than he had been previously with Fiddleford. Once they'd had a proper conversation and Bill had deemed Fiddleford to be a possible ally (or at least not a threat), Bill had been more than happy to have proper intelligent conversations with the man. For him to remain silent now was something to ponder, as far as the scientist was concerned. Not only was Bill being a bit too quiet, he also had a slight crease in his brow, and a far-off look in his one golden eye as he peered out into darkness.

Fiddleford was aware that one of the rules of engagement as had been established for Bill dictated that, should he be asked any question, he must answer it honestly and thoroughly. McGucket could just demand Bill tell him what he was thinking about, but Fiddleford had in the last year learnt how to be more tactful in his approach to things. Far had he come from days when he used to build giant robots to terrorize coworkers as retribution for small, insignificant slights against him.

"Somethin' troublin' ya, Little Fellow?" Fiddleford asked in his usual, carefree hillbilly accent. "Or don't you wanna talk about it?" The way he worded his questions and his demeanor made it clear that Bill could continue to sit there quietly if he so wanted.

Bill glanced at him out the corner of his one eye, noting the relaxed posture and neutral expression the scientist wore. Fiddleford was being cautious around him, but not unfriendly, and Bill appreciated the diplomacy the man had been showing towards him.

"I suppose there's no good reason not to discuss it with you," Bill consented. "I took a peek at what was going on at the meeting they held with the town. Sixer mentioned that he was going to extend some privileges to the town in regards to how I'm to be treated, but I didn't get the chance to actually hear what those privileges were."

"You're concerned the town will have too much of a say-so in what happens to you from now on." Bill could tell by the slight disagreement in Fiddleford's voice that he was not of the opinion that Bill had the right to be concerned over such a thing, after everything he'd done to the townspeople, or maybe he just had faith in his old friend's judgment and knew that Stanford wouldn't over-compensate the townsfolk for letting Bill stay? Of which was the truth, Bill wasn't sure. He could only speculate.

Bill nodded, turning to stare back out the window as they neared the Mystery Shack. "What if he extended the rule about me having to do everything I'm told to them? I'm not particularly fond of the concept of me being a slave to the whole town." Fiddleford looked like he was about to comment, likely on the fact that Bill had once enslaved the town himself, but Bill elaborated before the man could protest. "I know what you're thinking, and yes, maybe a bit of servitude is in order, but that's not the largest issue I have with it. Old Fordsie made it clear to me in the beginning that even if I was told to do bodily harm to myself, I had to do it, according to the rules. Lesson Número One covered that much. The rules also state I have to accept any punishment I'm given for my actions. Does the whole town have part-custody over me now, to punish me as they see fit? Because I truly don't trust them not to abuse that privilege. I've already faced struggles with the Pines over that." His right hand went subconsciously up to his empty eye socket, clearly implying that he was still of the opinion that Stanford had taken his eye at least partially as a form of punishment for asking too many questions about making another portal, even if everyone else kept insisting that it was purely accidental.

Fiddleford hummed, settling the car into a motionless state as they rolled up to the front of the Mystery Shack. Bill didn't immediately move to leave, wanting to hear Fiddleford's take on the matter. "I suppose some of those things are proper cause for concern. They won't truly be an issue unless you're left alone with others without one of the Pines present, so I'd say your biggest concern should be whether or not Stanford adjusted the rule about who's allowed to supervise you." Turning towards the blond, Fiddleford smiled at him lightly. "I wouldn't be too concerned if I were you though. That Mabel girl seems to care an awful lot about what happens to you. Whatever you've done to get on her good side, if you want to protect yourself, keep doing it. Ford will be careful to limit what others can do to you, for Mabel's sake if nothing else, and she'll ensure you're relatively safe. I don't really know what kind of relationship dynamics you've established with the Pines, but it's clear Mabel thinks of you as family, evil and damaged or not, and she has hope that you'll be able to change."

Bill judged Fiddleford's expression and voice carefully, thinking over his words and finding that he was likely being honest. As someone who had a tendency to be able to spin the most fantastic of lies, Bill could recognize deceit on another being's face, in their posture, and in their voice. He detected no such deceit in Fiddleford now.

"Alright Glasses, I'll try to take your word for it. I'm still gonna keep up my guard until they tell me exactly what's up though." Bill clambered out of the car, grabbed his new suite case from the front floorboards, and shut the door with a barely audible "thanks". Fiddleford stayed only long enough to watch Bill disappear into the safety of the Mystery Shack before driving off, he and his matte-silver Bentley disappearing into the night.

 **A/N: Hopefully I'll update soon, and Remember! (You know what's coming, say it with me!) REVIEWS ARE LOVE, REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM, BUY GOLD, BYE~!**

 **(Be honest, how many people actually read that aloud? My Mabel totally did, hahaha.)**


	57. Chapter 55: The Way It Is

**Chapter 55: The Way It Is**

 **A/N: Alternative Chapter Title: _Proof That I Actually Am Writing This Story Again~!_**

 **Anyway, thanks for over 100,000 views, 200 Follows, 200 Favorites, and almost 700 Reviews! My most popular story thus-far and by-far. I hope you continue to enjoy~!**

 **Warning for some description of violence in this chapter.**

When Bill entered the Mystery Shack, Mabel and Dipper were there waiting for him. Mabel instantly sprung up from where she'd been sitting and tackled him in a tight hug.

"Good, you're safe! I thought someone might run you off the road on the way home!"

Bill didn't respond, his mind running loops between thinking about the possibility of being run off the road and the fact that Mable thought of the Shack as his "home". The first was a concern because if even a happy-go-lucky glitter-muffin like Mabel had considered the possibility, it was a real danger. And the second... Bill really just wasn't sure what he thought about her "home" comment. Had she said something like it before? In retrospect she might have, but he hadn't reflected on it before.

When Bill remained silent, Mabel let him go and took him by the wrist. "You're tired, huh? C'mon, go to sleep and we can talk more in the morning." She dragged him upstairs, Dipper following closely behind, and they each three took to their separate beds, Bill's inflatable one still tucked into the corner of the attic.

The bed wasn't as comfortable as the one at McGucket Manor, but Bill distinctly remembered thinking it was Heaven-on-Earth after sleeping in the cage, so he still found it perfectly comfortable and was able to fall into a deep sleep within moments.

 **….**

 _Town square; the very location in which the townspeople had attempted to burn him alive at the stake. Everyone was there, and they surrounded him. Everyone, except for the Pines family. Not a single one of them was to be seen amongst the crowd around him._

 _"Do a little dance for us!" Gideon shouted from his perch atop Ghost Eyes' shoulder. Bill firmly planted his feet, refusing to partake in the same humiliating actions he had once forced upon the stout little boy. "You're cute enough now, Cipher! I told ya ta DANCE!"_

 _Bill refused once more, until Ford's stern voice cut through the garbled growls of the crowd: "The rules, Cipher. I told you the rules." Bill's head throbbed as if an electric shock had been shot through him... Or as if his eye-socket had been intruded upon by a foreign object, as he had only felt it once before..._

 _"The townspeople have the right to do this now," Mabel's voice said softly. "They deserve it after what you've done. Just do as they ask, Bill."_

 _Bill left his feet solidly planted, refusing once more, until his head throbbed badly enough to reduce him to tears and he was forced into motion. He at least deftly ignored the ways in which his body moved of its own accord. It was humiliating, like the Hokey Pokey, not an elegant or stylish dance: It was the dance of someone who's got no other option left before them. Dancing telegram workers came to mind._

 _More instructions came. "Sing a song!" He lamented in a foreign tongue the troubles of loss and humiliation. "Stand on your head!" He did so until he was so light-headed he thought he might pass out and fall into an even deeper dream._

 _"File my taxes for me!"_

 _"Mow my yard!"_

 _"Wash my car!"_

 _Just when Bill was reaching peak annoyance levels, he was reminded that annoyance was the least of his worries._

 _"Stop breathing!"_

 _Within minutes he was groveling silently for breath._

 _"Pull your hair out!"_

 _It came out in clumps of golden yellow and bloody red._

 _"Turn yourself inside-out!"_

 _…. Now, Bill had, in the Nightmare Realm, seen this be done before, so his imagination could easily supply him with interesting methods of accomplishing that. The difference was, those he'd seen do such a thing in the past were all somewhat **designed** to be able to do it, or were at least not limited by the confinements of a human body and, ergo, were not hindered by a proper conception of pain. In the Nightmare Realm there were no rules and the laws of physics didn't apply: Here preforming such a task was painful, and bloody, and difficult. Regardless of all of this, in his dreaming state, Bill was rather unfortunately able to complete the dictated task. His mouth opened first, as far as it could naturally go, and then past its limit until the jaw produced a sickening **snap** and fell wide open. The upper lips peeled back over and around his head, his jaw moving ever downward. The rest was too graphic for Bill's mind to put words to it, and through a dream-induced haze of pain he felt very spiteful of his status as a Demon of Nightmares. Being such a demon meant that his mind could easily recreate the worst of dreams, drawing inspiration from the countless nightmares he'd viewed and created over the millennia._

The nightmare never got the chance to run its full course, the illusion of pain and consuming red in his dream-vision proving too much. Bill startled awake, shivering as cold sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down into his eye, temporarily blurring his vision. He lay back on his mattress with a quiet groan, successfully avoiding waking up the twins. He wiped the sweat from his eye with his damp night-shirt sleeve and peered out the window. It was still dark outside, but the horizon revealed that the sun would soon begin to peek out from over the curve of the land, pink and blue gradients barely beginning to seep into the sky.

 _'I've slept enough,'_ Bill concluded, despite the tiredness that still weighed him down and the early hour of the morning. He stood silently and snuck out of the attic, not wanting to disturb the sleeping children. Sleep was the last thing he wanted right now, no matter how tired his body felt. _'Not sleep,'_ he corrected himself internally. _''To sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there's the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come... ***** ''_ The quote sprung to mind, words which he had once taken pride in as a Nightmare Demon. To sympathize with the sentiment now had him wondering if he was at this point still Bill Cipher. Was he more Dream Demon or human?

He shook his head, clearing himself of the troubling thoughts, and busied himself with more menial tasks. He changed in the bathroom into proper clothing, another basic pair of black slacks and a white polo, courtesy of Fiddleford. The morning air was chilly to the heat-loving demon, so he also slipped on the sweater Mabel had made for him before creeping downstairs.

He lurked about the Shack quietly for a time, seeing if anyone else was awake. He didn't dare check the lab to see if Ford was down there, regardless of the improvements in their relationship recently, nor did he want to check Stanford's bedroom and risk waking him up. If Ford did wake up, he would probably decide to watch after Bill until the others woke up, which Bill wasn't particularly keen on at the moment. They couldn't, wouldn't, go down to the lab, a place which Bill now feared to tread, and Bill didn't in particular want to talk to Ford at the moment. Long awkward silences were also something to be avoided, so no, Bill didn't want to go searching for Stanford. While he appreciated being back at the Shack, the place he'd somewhat gotten used to in the last weeks, and while he preferred to stick somewhat close to Mabel, his greatest protector, he also partially wished he could talk to Fiddleford again. He'd been thinking constantly about what rules he could propose since Fiddleford first made his offer, and while he hadn't completely decided on his final list, he would still appreciate the chance to talk to Fiddleford a bit more, and the crazy old coot was actually the person Bill felt he could most relate to at the moment. He wasn't so bad, for a human.

Bill sighed tiredly and settled at the kitchen table, leaving the lights off, nestled comfortably in the dark, his sweater providing him with the warmth he needed. He peered out the window, watching as the horizon ever-so-slowly grew lighter and more colorful, the sun now minutes away from peeking up over the rim of the Earth.

Without putting much thought to it, Bill slipped on his shoes and stepped outdoors. At first he was just going to sit on the bench in front of the Mystery Shack and enjoy the fresh air. Maybe it was because he'd spent several days in the lab with Ford, and then many hours passed-out in bed, a day in jail, and many nights and days before all that in a cage, or maybe it was because in his old form he used to roam freely through all of Gravity Falls, but he didn't feel as if he'd gotten enough fresh air lately. He wanted to just sit and breathe in the pure atmosphere of the outdoors, but memories of being snatched from the Shack by Gideon a day and a half ago plagued him and he wandered off into the woods, an area that felt less exposed and which he was still largely familiar with. He wouldn't wander too far, knowing that in his current body and with his limited navigational skills and senses he would no doubt get lost. He only went a few hundred meters, just far enough that he could no longer see or hear the effects of human beings on nature, far enough that he couldn't see the Shack and it would take time for anyone to find him should they go searching, but not so far as to forget the way back.

He perched himself on a fallen tree, a few of the branches cradling him as he leant back and peered up at the sky and swaying tree-tops above him. The last of the stars were beginning to fade, swallowed by the fast-approaching light of the sun.

Just as the sun was peeking up over the horizon, a harsh wind swept through the trees and the leaves murmured in distress. Bill sat up, listening intently and observing the swaying branches, then stood.

 _'I've heard these whispers before,'_ he thought. The language of trees used to be something he knew almost as well as his own original tongue, but had been lost to him when he revived in human form. To hear and understand the trees took a certain connection to nature that most humans had long ago lost, but a faint memory still supplied Bill with the knowledge that, at the very least, they were speaking, and he'd heard these words some time before. But what was it they were saying? A warning, he thought, but of what? The memory was too distant and, at the time, reasonably assured of his own immortality, Bill hadn't been concerned enough to mark the memory as important. Now he was having trouble dredging it back up, and he couldn't for the life of him remember what it meant. When the trees groaned in such a way, and the branches yelled as they rustled, and the air blew warm and sticky on an otherwise cold night just before the dawn of day, what did it mean...?

Maybe he couldn't remember, but he still felt it was dangerous, so he quickly returned to the Shack, closing the door a bit too forcefully on his way back in. He hesitated, wondering if anyone else had been awoken by his return. The others still slept soundly, all except for Ford, who was always awake by sunrise and who was just exiting his room when he heard the door close.

Bill strolled back towards the kitchen, pausing when Ford appeared at the top of the basement stairs. "Where were you?" He questioned.

"... Just out for a little stroll," Bill replied. "Enjoying some fresh air. I'm sure you don't share the sentiment, since you never seemed to have a problem holing yourself up in a musty cave for days on end." Ford observed him carefully before deciding that Bill _might_ be telling the truth or, at the very least, he was lying well enough that Ford couldn't tell he was lying, and so-far while in this human form Bill had proven to be a much less efficient liar than he used to be.

"You might not want to go wandering around right now. The townspeople have agreed to leave you be for the time being, but that doesn't mean you're safe from them. That little weird kid especially might decide to come back for you." Ford paused. "Besides all that, you're not supposed to be sneaking around without supervision. It's in the rules, remember?"

Bill tensed and stared at him silently. He had broken the rules, technically, yes. Had that thought even occurred to him when he decided to go out? No, he'd been too distracted by the dream he'd had and his desire to get some fresh air, to clear his head. If Ford decided to punish him for this the three-fold deal would be nullified, since the deal stipulated that Ford would only receive three-fold retribution if he hurt Bill when Bill _hadn't_ broken a rule. And broken a rule, technically, he had.

Judging by the contemplative look on Ford's face, he was aware as well that he could punish Bill however he saw fit at the moment without facing direct physical back-lash. Bill was tense, his one golden eye gleaming at Ford intensely from down the hall, no doubt wondering what his punishment would be.

Ford stepped closer, walking down the hall and past the doorway Bill was standing in, towards the kitchen. "C'mon, we might as well make breakfast. And don't go wondering off alone anymore." He disappeared around the kitchen door-frame.

Bill blinked. Was that it, then? Ford wasn't going to punish him this time, despite the free-pass to do as he wanted? Why? Bill's brow furrowed in confusion. He was thankful, of course, but also curious.

He followed Ford into the kitchen and sat down, simply watching as Ford pulled out some frozen waffles from the freezer and laid them out on plates on the counter. Instead of using the toaster he pulled out one of his many guns. He turned some knobs on the device before opening fire on the waffles, instantly heating them to the perfect temperature, the insides soft and warm, the outside gold, slightly browned, and crispy.

"Why don't you go get the kids? They may as well get up early; there's a lot I want us to do today, and it'd be best if we take them along."

Bill blinked. "Wait, you mean there's something you want _us_ to do today? As in you and I, not just you and the twins?"

Ford nodded. "And, like I said, we'll take them along too. Or did you want to go out into the forest with me, alone, all day long?" Bill instantly shook his head. "I thought not."

Bill exited quietly, returning to the attic. He shook Mabel awake first, who yawned and stretched before addressing him.

"Hey Bill, what's up?" She asked.

"Stanford wants you and Pine Tree to come down for breakfast. I suppose he's got something planned for the four of us today." Mabel nodded and clambered out of bed before proceeding to take a running start and jump on Dipper's bed, effectively startling him awake. He let out a thick "oof" sound as the air was pushed from his lungs by the force of his sister now laying horizontally across his stomach.

"C'mon Dippy, time to get up! Grunkle Ford wants to see us!"

"And he made breakfast," Bill supplied.

Dipper groaned and pushed at his sister's right shoulder, trying to roll her away. "Ugh, Mabel, get off!" He complained, but there was a slight smile on his face as he finally pushed her hard enough to roll her off the foot of the bed, where she landed on the floor.

"Dipperrrr," she whined, but soon burst into a fit of giggles as Waddles padded over and began to lick her face.

"Hmm, that's what you get," Dipper said in good humor before stretching himself and clambering out of bed. Even fueled by the promise of getting to hang out with his Grunkle Ford, it was clear that Dipper had far less energy in the early morning than Mabel did.

The trio completed their morning routines of brushing their teeth, combing their hair, etc. When they were done they proceeded downstairs and to the kitchen, where Ford was already sitting at the table with a half-eaten plate of waffles with grape jelly on top instead of syrup.

"Sweet, waffles!" Mable commented, grabbing one of three remaining plates on the counter. "You didn't make any for Grunkle Stan?" She asked, looking at her more scientific Grunkle.

"He's still asleep, no reason to wake him up. He'll get up later and get something for himself if he wants it. We'll be gone by then."

"Where're we going?" Dipper asked, barely suppressing his excitement, clearly ready for another adventure. Mable rolled her eyes as she poured a lake-full of syrup over her own waffles before pouring a generous amount on Bill's as well, topping his with a scoop of the remaining Neapolitan ice cream they kept in the freezer for him. Dipper lathered his own waffles with syrup before sitting next to his Grunkle at the table, Mabel and Bill sitting across the table from them as Mabel began attempting to shove a whole waffle in her mouth at once while Bill crumbled a Cracker over the top of his meal before skewing a small piece of food with his fork.

"I thought it might be a good idea for us to put up some extra security around the Shack," Ford said, pulling out Journal Number 2. "There's technology we can use, of course, but technology isn't full-proof, and in the modern day there are far too many people out there adapt at breaking through firewalls and rendering tech useless. I think the best security we can achieve at the moment requires some more supernatural items. I want to begin collecting the necessary supplies over the next few days."

Dipper nodded. "That's a great idea! I mean, it's true, with Bill here and half the town looking to burn him alive it's best we put up some extra security."

Bill tilted his head sideways. "What, for me? I thought you had talked to the town, Fordsie. What exactly did you say to them? Didn't you, I don't know, promise them I'd behave and do anything they tell me to?" Ford looked up from the Journal to see Bill pretending to be interested in his food, poking at his ice cream with the tip of his fork as if making patterns in the cream, but through the bangs of his golden hair Ford could see his eye staring intently, accusatorially almost, over at Ford.

"What are you getting at, Cipher?" Bill seemed to be disturbed by one thought or another, but Ford hadn't the faintest idea why the demon was so unsettled.

"... I …. I _heard_ that you extended the rules and privileges to the townspeople."

Ford scoffed. "What, you think I told the town you have to do everything they say? Answer all of their questions and do anything they tell you to do? Of course I didn't! Doing that would certainly spell disaster." Ford squinted his eyes. "Where'd you hear that, anyway? I planned to tell you what specifically I'd promised to them, of course, but who exactly did you talk to that they didn't tell you any of the specifics?"

Bill glared a little, his lips pulling into a thin line. He averted his gaze. "Alright, so, I may have, perhaps, used one of the new powers The Axolotl granted me to listen in during the town meeting."

"That's right!" Dipper said, pointing his fork in Bill's direction. "You said The Axolotl gave you back the ability to see through a depiction of yourself to make up for losing an eye, right?"

Bill nodded. "Yes, but I can only see through one source at a time, and only for a short period of time. It drains too much of my energy otherwise... I took a peek at the meeting, but my time ran out before I could get all the details. But that wasn't against the rules, was it?" Bill defended, glaring at Ford, as if daring him to make a fuss over it. "You never said I can't look around."

Ford simply shook his head. "No, it isn't against the rules. I'm not going to punish you for this, Cipher. Relax. Besides, you have a right to know what we discussed at that meeting, since you were the main topic of discussion. Ultimately, I promised the townspeople that you would be killed if you ever tried to hurt anyone again, but I also made it very clear that they were not to take matters into their own hands. The only person who's allowed to kill you, should the time come, is me, not anyone from the town. I also told them you were forbidden to lie to them, but I didn't say anything about having to answer their questions, nor did I tell them you must do everything you're told. If they want you to do something for them, or if they think you need to be punished for something, they have to discuss it with us Pines first. I also assured them that you were to remain under our supervision at all times, and they would never see you out running about without one of us to watch after you." Ford fell silent, and Bill knew that Ford was thinking about Bill's unaccompanied stroll that morning.

Bill nodded. "I'll keep all that in mind," he promised, conveying his understanding. For his safety as much as the others, he would be sure to stick close to the Pines and not go wandering off. Having now been put much more at ease, Bill relaxed a bit and began to actually eat his breakfast. Being the town's little slave had been an unappetizing thought, but now he could rest assured that Ford had promised no such thing to the townspeople.

"Well, I'm about ready for another adventure when you guys finish!" Mable exclaimed as she finished polishing off her plate, the entirety of the two gallons of syrup she'd put on her waffles licked clean off the plate and off of her fingertips. "What're we gonna do today?!" She asked excitedly.

Ford chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm, noting that Dipper himself was now scarfing down his own breakfast at a hurried pace so they could go. "I have a few ideas, but I thought maybe Bill would have a few more."

Bill blinked. "Oh?" He asked as a form of question.

Ford nodded. "That's right. There's still plenty in this town I don't know about, more research to be done, especially since I've been seeing new creatures that weren't around before last year. Everything may have been put back to relative normalcy after Weirdmageddon, but the event did also amp-up the amount of strangeness in this town, and I've already been seeing the results of that over the last few days. So why don't we start with what you know would make good security additions to the Shack, and we'll go from there?"

Bill couldn't help but smirk. "Sure, why not?" His smirk grew into a downright mischievous grin. "You ever heard of a ten-eyed troll?"

 **A/N:** **Alright that's it for this nicely-lengthed chapter! Next chapter we get to find out what a ten-eyed troll is and what's special about it. Don't ask me right now though because I ain't knows it yet! Haha, I just kind of make this stuff up as I go along. I'm sure I'll come up with something for it though, a ten-eyed troll is a pretty easy thing to write about, it's so interesting. Lol.**

 ***Yay Hamlet quotes~! By far my favorite play, especially from Shakespeare.**

 **Thanks for reading and remember! Reviews are love, reality is an illusion, the Universe is a hologram, Buy Gold, BYE!**

 **Oh, and also, I totally own some gold myself. Seriously, 100%, buy gold. No joke. American stock market's goin' down soon. Trust me on this one, I know my economics. APMEX is a good site for it. ;)**


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